


Confidential Information

by Adrianna99



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Yuuri, Crime, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Interpol - Freeform, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Non-Explicit Sex, Secret Agent Yuuri, Skater Viktor, Threats, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 169,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrianna99/pseuds/Adrianna99
Summary: Yuuri never imagined that being able to figure skate would be useful for his job at Interpol.  He was very, very wrong.Viktor Nikiforov, as a famous athlete popular in the public eye, has received threats before.  There are very few he takes seriously.  However, as more secrets are uncovered and nothing is as it appears, the stakes rise until it becomes clear that there may not be a way to save him this time.





	1. A New Threat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I think this fic is going to be a lot of fun to write, I’m looking forward to it! This was initially loosely inspired by the movie Miss Congeniality, but it sort of… evolved. Into whatever this is. There are just a few things I’d like to say before we begin. 
> 
> I do my best to be good about warnings per chapter, but because of the nature of this fic, there will be violence. I will mark if there’s anything super graphic, usually with more details in the end notes if applicable, but if violence might be a problem I would recommend giving this a pass. Also, In this universe, Yuuri does have anxiety, especially before competitions. I will be sure to clearly mark if/when he has any graphically depicted on-screen panic attacks. In addition, Viktor isn’t always in the best place mentally either, so expect depiction/discussion of depression, which I will be sure to clearly mark as well. Please keep yourselves safe and healthy.
> 
> I want to be clear about what might be considered problematic for people to avoid if they don’t want to see it. Other than the standard warning for the Yuri on Ice fandom that I know very little about ice skating and rely almost completely on what information I can find on Google, I have nothing else to say. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuuri jumped about a mile in the air when someone tapped on his shoulder, and then slammed the lid of his laptop closed and turned, tugging one of his headphones out of his ears.

Minami Kenjirou grinned down at him with his hands tucked into his pockets, dyed-red bangs falling over his eyes.“Whatcha watching, Yuuri-san?” he asked.

Yuuri felt himself blush a little.“N-nothing,” he stammered, cursing his terrible decision to slack off on the job.

Minami’s grin widened a little.“Nothing?” he said in a teasing voice.“Didn’t _look_ like nothing.”

Yuuri didn’t answer.He just narrowed his eyes at Minami, a silent warning to keep his voice down.

“In fact,” Minami said in a stage whisper.“That looked a lot like Viktor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri exhaled slowly.“Fine, you caught me, congratulations, Minami,” he said.“Can you keep it to yourself?At least until I finish this video?”

Minami chewed on his lip, clearly thinking.He well knew how much Yuuri had been looking forward to watching the figure skating World Championships.Yuuri had been talking about it ever since the conclusion of the Grand Prix series.He had been literally counting the days until the Championships, excited to see Viktor Nikiforov skate and win another gold.Yuuri was a bit of a fan, which was the only reason he was rewatching recordings of Nikiforov’s free skate during work instead of finishing the reports his boss wanted done by the end of the night.“Sorry, Yuuri,” Minami said with an apologetic smile.“Boss wants to see you.”

Yuuri winced.“How did she find out?” he asked.

Minami quickly shook his head.“No, it’s not about you taking Nikiforov breaks,” he said with a laugh, and then sobered.“Well, she probably _does_ know about that, but Minako-sensei has known you for years.I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“What does she want me for, then?” Yuuri asked, quickly getting to his feet and pulling his headphones out of the side of his computer before stuffing them in his bag.When the regional director of Interpol wanted to talk to him, it usually wasn’t a good idea to dawdle.

Minami pressed a finger to his lips.“Confidential,” he said, eyes shining.“But I think you’ll like it.”

Yuuri shrugged, and adjusted his tie.“We’ll see.”He followed Minami through the back halls of their office, surprised when he realized that the younger man was leading him to one of the smaller conference rooms.Minami opened the door, and then gave Yuuri a small smile and a light shove between the shoulder blades.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow before walking into the room, straightening his spine to present a facsimile of confidence.Minami followed him in, quietly closing the door behind them.Yuuri’s eyes darted over the occupants of the room, assessing the situation.Okukawa Minako was seated directly in front of him, with the Interpol seal mounted on the wall right about her head.Yuuri bowed, and then glanced at the man sitting next to her, a older Westerner with grey hair and a hat.Yuuri tried to keep surprise from showing on his face as he did a double take.What was Yakov Feltsman doing in the Japanese office of Interpol?

“Katsuki,” Minako said, inclining her head slightly.Speaking in English, she gestured to the small table they were seated at and said, “Join us.”Yuuri cautiously took the few steps across the room to get to the table, and pulled out the chair at Minako’s right.Minami said next to him, and Yuuri could practically sense the younger man vibrating with excitement.“Do you know who this is, Katsuki?” Minako asked, nodding in Yakov’s direction.

“Yakov Feltsman,” Yuuri blurted, sure he was blushing a little.Not allowing himself to look down, Yuuri made eye contact with the Russian man and added, “He’s a figure skating coach.”He knew Minako was asking mostly for Yakov’s benefit; she knew just as well as Minami how much of a Viktor Nikiforov fanboy Yuuri was.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Katsuki,” Yakov said with a firm nod, thick Russian accent slightly mangling Yuuri’s name.Yuuri extended his hand, and Yakov quickly shook it.

“Likewise,” Yuuri replied, and then turned his attention back to Minako.“What’s going on?” he asked in Japanese.

Minako gave him a vaguely disapproving look, and then said in English, “Would you tell Katsuki what you told me, Mr. Feltsman?”

Yakov squinted suspiciously at Minami.“Do they both have clearance?” he asked.“I don’t want this getting out.”

“Katsuki and Minami are very subtle,” Minako assured him.Yuuri fought a smile at that.Minami, despite the fact that he could keep a secret like nobody’s business, was anything _but_ subtle.

Yakov sighed, and then asked, “I assume if you’ve heard of me, Mr. Katsuki, you’ve heard of Viktor Nikiforov.”Yuuri nodded, but Yakov wasn’t really looking for a response.The older man sighed deeply and laced his fingers together before continuing, “If you’e heard of Vitya, then surely you know how popular he is, and how much he interacts with his fans.So I want you to understand that, as a public figure, Viktor has received threats and disturbing letters before.We’re somewhat used to this.I wouldn’t be addressing this if I didn’t think it was a serious issue.”

Yuuri blinked.Was Viktor being threatened about something?He could see how that might be a problem for Interpol, especially if a Russian had been threatened on Japanese soil, but he didn’t really see how _he_ came in.Yakov, as though reading his thoughts, gave him an appraising look before saying, “The night before he left for the World Championships here in Japan, Viktor received a threatening letter that was slipped underneath the door of his apartment.Here is a copy.”

Minako silently slid a photocopy of what was presumably the letter.Yuuri looked it over quickly, but it was printed in Russian, a language he couldn’t read very well.“The gist of it is a threat to hurt or kill Viktor if he didn’t step down from the World Championships,” Yakov said gruffly, but Yuuri could hear the uneasiness in his voice.

“We’ve already analyzed the original,” Minako added.“Nothing identifiable about the handwriting, nothing special about the paper and ink used, no sign of any sort of helpful DNA samples or fingerprints so far.  Whoever sent this was remarkably careful.”

“I can see how you would find this concerning, sir,” Yuuri said tentatively, giving the letter back to Yakov.“But I don’t understand why this is a matter for Interpol rather than your local police.”Yakov frowned deeper.

Minako stepped in, saying, “For one, the threat states that Viktor will be hurt, kidnapped, or killed if he does not pull out of the World Championships.Obviously he didn’t do that, since he competed and won gold.The letter included very specific ways that they will hurt him during the next Grand Prix series.Because of the emphasis on him being out of commission for the competitions, we believe that another skater, or someone working for another skater, is behind these letters.And since many of the skaters who could have done this aren’t Russian, this is an international issue.”

“There’s also the matter of how it was found,” Yakov added with a deep sigh.He kneaded his brow, and then said quietly, “Viktor is very famous, and he has a lot of fans.Most of these fans are absolutely lovely people, and appreciate him for his prowess on the ice.However, there are some, a minority, who often take things too far.We’ve had people try to hug Viktor, try to take pieces of his hair when he was younger, to send him disturbing things in the mail, to try to find his house.Because of this, we’ve publicized an address for Viktor that he doesn’t actually live at, to keep him safe.He lives in a different apartment in the other direction, a little further from the rink and a bit out of the way, which prevents his most… voracious fans from finding him.Very few people know where Viktor actually lives, and this letter is worrying because it was slipped underneath the door of his _real_ apartment, and no one noticed anything amiss.Therefore, whoever delivered it found out where Viktor lives, or already knew.That means they have potentially dangerous access to Viktor, and without us knowing who they are they might be able to hurt him.”

Yuuri frowned down at the table, considering that.“That is concerning,” he agreed calmly, and then made eye contact with Minako.“Where do I come in?”

Minako and Yakov exchanged glances (Yuuri didn’t like the way they seemed to be having a silent conversation) and came to an agreement.His stomach sank as Yakov said quietly, “You can ice skate, correct?”

Yuuri nervously licked his lips, and then said, “I… I can, yes.I’m not very good.”

“Yuuri-san!” Minami exclaimed reprovingly, and then clamped his mouth shut.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes at the younger man, and then turned back to Yakov.“How come?”

“How good are you?” Yakov pressed, ignoring the question.

Yuuri wrinkled his nose.“Not as good as Viktor Nikiforov,” he said dismissively.“It’s a hobby.”He had an inkling of where this might be going, and he wasn’t exactly sure he liked it…

“No one is as good as Vitya, that’s the point,” Yakov said, waving a hand.

“Or the problem,” Minako mumbled.

“I…. I have a video of Yuuri skating,” Minami said tentatively. 

Yuuri turned and gaped at him.“You _what?”_

Minami winced.“Sorry, Yuuri-san,” he apologized, switching to Japanese.“I couldn’t resist filming you last time you invited me to go skating with you!You’re just so good!”Yuuri cringed.“Do you want to see?” Minami asked in English, glancing sideways at Yakov.The Russian man nodded silently.

“Minami…” Yuuri said warningly, as Minami pulled out his phone.Minako put a hand on his wrist, and Yuuri clamped his mouth shut.As embarrassed as he was, if Minako wanted him to stay quiet, he had to stay quiet.

Minami tapped on the screen of his phone, turned up the volume, and then turned it so they could all see.Yuuri covered his face with his hands, peeking out through his fingers.He immediately recognized the routine he had been skating, just fooling around.Yuuri wasn’t a competitive skater for a reason, and he had never choreographed a routine for himself, but he did like to watch other skaters.Sometimes when he wanted to unwind after a long day at work he would go to the local rink and skate figures for a while, or try to skate simplified versions of skaters’ routines.He occasionally invited Minami to come as well, once he had found out that the younger man followed figure skating as well.

“That’s Vitya’s routine,” Yakov murmured, leaning closer a little to see the video on the small screen.“It’s simplified, but…It's definitely _Stammi Vicino._ ”

Yuuri winced as the Yuuri on the screen turned a jump that had been a quad in Viktor’s program to a double.He pressed his lips together, wincing as he touched down on a triple toe loop, and then completely coveredhis eyes for the rest of the routine.He knew he wasn’t a very good skater.He didn’t need video evidence to prove it.

Minami shoved his phone back in his pocket when the video ended, and said eagerly, “He’s really good, right?”

“Hmphf,” Yakov grunted thoughtfully.“I can work with that.”

Yuuri stared at him.“What?”

Yakov steepled his fingers, eyes on Yuuri.“Simply put, I asked Interpol if they could assign an agent to go undercover and keep an eye on Viktor until the culprit of this letter has been caught.I don’t think there’s much of a risk in the off season as the letter explained that his "punishment" would come if he dared compete again, but it would be good to have a trained professional around during the season when he's at the most risk, someone who could mingle with the other skaters and pay attention without drawing suspicion.Would you be able to compete on the international circuit?”

Yuuri stared at him, open-mouthed, and then managed to stammer, “I… I don’t know.I, um…”

“He’s been ice skating for years,” Minako told Yakov with a sharp glance in Yuuri’s direction.“I believe he is qualified.”

Yuuri huffed out a frustrated breath.“What, I don’t get a choice in this?” he said in Japanese to Minako.

His boss frowned.“Of course you get a choice, Yuuri, you do have free will,” she said, and then tilted her head slightly.“I think it would be _very_ good for your career, though.Especially after the last case.”Yuuri flinched.

Minako leaned forward slightly, lacing her fingers together and going in for the kill.“Besides, how many people would you trust to keep Viktor Nikiforov safe against what I believe is a serious threat?”

Yuuri paused at that, considering.He knew Minako was manipulating him.She wasn’t exactly subtle, and Yuuri was smart.But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t bringing up some good points.Of course he didn’t know Viktor personally, but he would be devastated if anything happened to the skater when he could have done something to prevent it. And… Maybe another chance would be a good thing after the absolute fuck-up of his last job.Yuuri had been stuck at his desk since that absolute disaster, doing paperwork and sneaking skating videos when he had the time.It _would_ be nice to get out in the field again, put his training to good use.

“I haven’t competed internationally in years,” he blurted, and then cringed internally.That sounded like an agreement.

Minako smiled slightly, and said in English, “The World Championships just ended yesterday, as I’m sure you know, Yuuri.”She raised an eyebrow at him, looking amused.Yuuri blushed.He would have be be a little more covert if he wanted to keep sneaking videos at work.

“The next Grand Prix series doesn’t start untilthe fall,” Yakov said gravely.“You would have time to train before then.”He fiddled with the brim of his hat, and then asked, “Do you have any triples?”

“I can land a triple toe loop and a triple Salchow consistently,” Yuuri replied automatically.“And the loop, flip, and lutz not as consistently."  He decided not to add how close he had been to a quad toe.  It didn't really matter until he landed it.

Yakov nodded.“You might be able to work your way up to a quad toe loop if you work very hard,” he said.

Yuuri blinked.“If I agreed to this job,” he said cautiously, “Would you be the one training me?”

Yakov snorted, shaking his head.“Katsuki, I only train Russian skaters,” he said.“It would be of immediate suspicion if I took on a previously-unknown skater from Japan.I do, however, know some other coaches who would do exactly that.”

Yuuri swallowed hard, twisting his fingers together.He must be crazy, but he was seriously considering doing this.Would he be able to go undercover for up to nine months?Leave Japan for that long?Most importantly, would he be able to perform on the ice in front of the world without choking or making a fool of himself?“Can I think about it?” Yuuri asked quietly.

Yakov nodded.“I’ll be in communication,” he said, glancing at his watch.“However, I must go if I’m to catch my plane.”

The others stood as well.“Thank you for sharing your concerns with us, Mr. Feltsman,” Minako said, offering her hand.“We’ll keep you updated.”Yakov nodded solemnly to Yuuri and Minami before leaving the room with the sharp click of his shoes on the floor and a swoosh of his coat.

Yuuri collapsed back in his chair, covering his face with his hands.Minako and Minami sat as well, one of each side of him.“I really do think it would be good for you to do this, Yuuri,” Minako said, the cold professionalism mostly gone from her voice.“You’ve been in a slump since your last job.It would be good for you to get out in the field again.Hopefully redeem yourself.”

Yuuri sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling the neatly combed strands.“Minako, please be honest,” he said softly.“If I don’t take an undercover job soon, what are my chances for ever getting back in the field?”

Minako studied him pityingly.“The longer you wait, Yuuri, the more people will forget your previous successes, and only remember the fuck-up in Shanghai,” she replied.

Yuuri leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.Just thinking about doing this job, thinking about performing in front of everyone, performing in front of _Viktor_ , made him feel sick to his stomach with nerves. The nerves were the main reason he hadn’t pursued competitive figure skating in the senior division in the first place, a decision he had made back when he was eighteen and jumped at the drop of a pin.But he was a little better now. He had gotten better at managing his anxiety, although it was always with him, good enough at managing it to present to society that he was a fully functioning human being.And, despite the snafu of his last job, he had gained a lot of his confidence in himself since he was a teenager.From an objective standpoint he had more successes under his belt than failures, even if every failure eroded his confidence a little.

“There would be a lot of logistics to work out,” Yuuri said thoughtfully.“For one, I would need an alias.A background.And who would coach me?”

Minako smiled at him.“You’ll take the job?”

Yuuri covered his eyes.“I’ll probably regret it, but yes,” he said.“I’ll take the job.”

“Yuuri-san, this is going to be so cool!” Minami said from his left, clasping his hands together.“I’m so excited to see you skate on the same ice as Viktor!” Yuuri’s lips twitched at that.

“We’ve already got a few options,” Minako said, businesslike.She pulled a manila folder seemingly out of nowhere, and set it on the table.“First: your alias.”She opened the folder and showed him a picture of a Japanese man probably a few years his junior, with thick glasses and ruffled hair, smiling shyly at the camera.“This is Nakamura Yuki,” Minako said.“Age twenty, from Osaka.He’s ice skated in domestic competitions since he was eleven, and although he’s reached the international circuit in a few small competitions, he hasn't done all that well and so hasn’t gotten much attention from the media even in Japan.He has, however, been certified by the JSF, and so _could_ compete in larger competitions if he were so inclined and had the skills and temperament to do so.”

Yuuri leaned forward, studying the picture.Nakamura wasn’t an exact ringer, for sure, but there was enough resemblance between the two of them that Yuuri could probably pass as the younger man if he did his hair differently and switched from his usual contacts to glasses.“Wouldn’t he care if I take his name?” he asked.

“We’ve already spoken with him,” Minako said.

Yuuri stared at her.“How?Mr. Feltsman just left!”

“Yuuri, this isn’t the first time he’s come to Interpol,” Minako said with a laugh.“He visited a few days ago to file a report, and then gave us some time to make preparations.”

Yuuri exhaled slowly.It seemed there was far more going on behind the scenes than he had anticipated."Alright,” he said.“So you’ve already talked to Nakamura.What did he say?”

“He had actually received a small injury a few months ago that prevented him from skating this season,” Minako said.“Stress fractures in his left ankle, I’ve seen the doctor’s report.When we talked to him, he said he was already considering retirement since he hadn’t been all that successful for the most part and wanted to focus more on his education.He agreed to let you use his name, background, and skating record, and to stay with his parents in Akita, so long as he got a portion of any prize money you win.”

“Fair enough,” he said quietly."What about a coach?”

“Yakov recommended a few of his colleagues,” Minako answered, rifling through her papers.“Nathalie and Alain Leroy in Canada, Celestino Cialdini in the United States, and Maria Dominguez in Brazil all take new foreign skaters, and they’re all good coaches.”

“What do you recommend?” Yuuri asked tiredly, rubbing his forehead.

“Probably Cialdini,” Minako said.“From what I can tell, he has the largest variety of skaters, so if you keep a low profile you probably won’t draw much suspicion.”

“A low profile, until I compete in one of the most prestigious figure skating competitions in the world,” Yuuri mumbled.

Minako chuckled.“Right.”

“Sure.”Yuuri picked at a scab on the back of his hand.“Has he been contacted yet?” he asked.

“Well, since you've agreed to take on this job, we’ll contact him,” Minako said.“Odds are you'll have to relocate to America if he agrees to work with us, though.”

“That’s fine,” Yuuri replied.“My English is decent, as things go.”

“Yuuri, your English is better than mine,” Minako laughed.“As is your French, Russian, Spanish, and Mandarin.”

Yuuri chuckled sheepishly.“I guess it’s alright.The Russian might be useful around Viktor, at least.”

Minako murmured thoughtfully.“I think, Yuuri, on this job, it might be better if you’re underestimated," she said.“The object is to keep an eye out for suspicious activity that might denote someone trying to hurt Viktor, and to do that you’ll want to be able to lie low and not draw much attention to yourself.People will speak more freely around you if they think you’re timid and shy, or forget you’re there altogether, or don’t think you speak English very well.” 

Yuuri smiled slightly.“So a thick accent, then,” he replied.“I can manage that.”

Minako nodded, and then glanced at her watch.“It’s getting late,” she said.“You're dismissed, Yuuri, you can go home for the day.You too, Minami.”

Yuuri and Minami stood, and walked towards the exit.Just as Yuuri touched the doorknob, Minako called out, “Oh, and Yuuri?”

Yuuri turned slightly.“Yes?”

Minako flashed him a humorless smile.“Please try to keep the ice skating fanboying to a minimum on company hours, got it?”

Yuuri nodded numbly, mouth dry.“Got it,” he said, and left as quickly as possible before Minako could tell him not to bring four candy bars with his lunch or take half an hour bathroom breaks and play games on his phone when the reports got too boring.

“Oh my gosh, Yuuri, I’m so excited for you!” Minami exclaimed as soon as the door to the conference room closed behind them.He clasped his hands together, practically vibrating with excitement.“Aren’t you excited?”

Yuuri sighed quietly and ran his fingers through his hair.“I’m not excited that Viktor is in danger,” he said thoughtfully, toying anxiously with his tie.“But… I do suppose it will be nice to get back in the field.”

Minami grinned at him.“Will you keep me up to date?”

Yuuri chuckled, shrugging as they reached his desk.“I’ll tell you as much as I can, Minami-kun.I don’t know how much will be confidential.”Yuuri glanced out the window, unsurprised to see that it was already dark outside.

“Are you going to the rink?” Minami asked.

Yuuri chewed on his lip.“Probably," he said.He had brought his skates with him, but it would be weird to skate knowing that now he would have to do it in competition for hundreds of eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Minami said.“Good night, Yuuri-san.”

“Good night, Minami-kun,” Yuuri replied with a tired smile, waving to his friend.

Minami bounced away, filled with energy, and Yuuri let his smile fade as he packed up his things for the day and heaved the bag with his skates over one shoulder.He had told the truth, he was excited to be back in the field rather than stuck at a cramped desk filing reports.But at the same time… Yuuri’s stomach soured at the memory of his last case.It had gone horribly, horribly wrong, and Yuuri was more than nervous that he might manage to screw things up yet again.The stakes were equally high this time; Viktor Nikiforov’s life seemed to hang in the balance, and Yuuri would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to the older man on his watch.

Yuuri sighed deeply as he walked briskly out of the Interpol building and onto the busy streets of Tokyo.Maybe skating would calm him down, after the last hour he had experienced.Skating figures was often therapeutic.He’d just have to avoid thinking about doing it in front of thousands of people.

Despite having grown up in a small town, Yuuri had lived in Tokyo for the past three years, and he was experienced in navigating the busy streets and avoiding any dangers.The ice rink was only a ten minute walk from his office, but Yuuri knew he would have to take the train back to his small, dark, slightly dingy apartment when he was done skating, a fact he dreaded.At least he would be able to skate alone; the ice rink he was going to normally closed at seven on Tuesdays, but Yuuri had made a deal and paid the owners to be allowed to skate after closing.

Yuuri exhaled in relief almost imperceptibly when he reached the ice rink, pushing open the door and crossing to the rental desk.“We’re closed,” one of the owners said without looking up from where she was arranging skates for the next day.

“Hi, Mrs. Yamamoto,” Yuuri said with a small smile.

The owner turned, and beamed at him.“Yuuri!” she said, and walked to the counter to meet him.“How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks,” Yuuri said with a small bow.“And you?”

“I’m lovely, dear, thank you,” Mrs. Yamamoto said with a smile.“How long are you going to skate tonight, Yuuri?”

Yuuri sighed.“Maybe an hour?” he said.“What time do you need me to leave?”

“We’re closing up at nine," she told him.“You’re welcome to stay until then, dear.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri said with a smile, and then made his way to the locker room and sat down on a bench.He closed his eyes in the dim room and took a few deep breaths, getting his bearings.Being in an ice rink, even if it wasn’t the one he had grown up going to, always brought back a flood of memories.Yuuri could almost hear his own child-like voice at the age of seven asking his friend Yuuko to watch him, good-natured debates over Viktor Nikiforov’s various programs, the at first cruel and then gently teasing words of Takeshi, the scrape of blades on the ice.

Yuuri let the air in his lungs out slowly, and then unzipped his bag and pulled out his skates.He gently set them on the bench and then quickly changed from his work clothes into a more comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t shirt, and sat back down to lace up his skates.Yuuri put his bags into a locker and locked it before walking on guarded blades to the main room of the rink.As expected, there was no one of the ice, and Yuuri eyed the large, smooth expanse with eagerness for a moment before slipping off his blade guards and stepping onto the ice.

Yuuri instantly relaxed as soon as his skates hit the ice, and his eyes fluttered closed as he skated to the middle before transitioning into a lazy figure.He warmed up for a bit, stringing together spins and turns and snippets of step sequences, before skating to the center of the rink and coming to a stop.

Yuuri took a deep breath, got in the correct starting position, and closed his eyes, imagining the first low notes of the music in his head, and then lifted his eyes and began to skate _Stammi Vicino_.   he quickly lost himself in the familiar routine, pouring all the emotions he could muster into the movements of his arms around his body and the slow, smooth glide of his skates on the ice.He took a deep breath, gained speed, and launched himself into a triple lutz.Yuuri could feel his under rotation in the air, and winced internally as he touched down on the landing before gathering speed again for the flip.Yuuri took a deep breath and then jumped into his inconsistent triple flip, gasping out loud when he landed it without having to touch down.In shock, he changed the next quad into a triple and transitioned into a sequence of steps and spins, letting his eyes mostly close as he glided over the ice, imaginary music ringing in his ears.

_This_ was why he skated. _This,_ the peace welling in his chest, the familiar slick feeling of the ice underneath his feet, the slight burn of exertion in his muscles and the sweat beading on his brow.  Even with all the memories it brought back, all the stress it caused, skating was worth it for _this_. 

Yuuri exhaled slowly as he went into a flying sit spin before straightening and changing his movements into another sequence of flowing, fluid steps across the ice.  He gained speed, bit his tongue, and then launched himself into the air, eyes snapping open as he did just enough rotations midair for the jump to count as a quadruple Salchow, a jump he had been trying to get for months with inconsistent success.Yuuri tumbled to the ice as he wobbled on his landing, rolling twice, and then pushed himself back up and skating into the next combination jump followed by a step sequence and a shaky triple lutz that his palm hit the ice for.He fumbled the next triple flip as well, but strengthened his resolve for the last jump combination.Yakov had said he might be able to do a quad toe loop?Maybe he could, dangerous as it was.

Yuuri curled his arms around himself as if beseeching a lover to join him, expression calm and clear, and then skated backwards before launching himself into a slightly under rotated quad toe loop, skipping the following toe loop in surprise.He whirled into the last combination spin, the ice rink spinning dizzily around him as his blades scraped the ice, and then ended with his face upturned and his arms wrapped around himself, panting and sweaty.

Yuuri stood for a moment as the cold of the rink began to cool the perspiration on his face, and then slow, loud claps echoed across the empty ice.Yuuri jumped, and turned on his heel to see Minako leaning against the boards, clad in her tan trench coat and watching him intently.“M-minako!” Yuuri stammered, pushing off and skating in her direction."How long have you been standing there?”

Minako smiled slightly.“For the whole routine.I wanted to see you skate myself, in person.”

“How did you-” Yuuri started, and then shook his head.“It was Minami, wasn’t it?”

“He told me where you would be, yes,” Minako agreed.“I must say, Yuuri, that seemed better than the video Minami showed Yakov and I.Was that a quad toe?”

Yuuri reached the boards and slid to a stop, absently wiping at his sweaty forehead.“It was an attempt, sure.”

“You're really going to do this, aren't you?” Minako said with something almost like awe in her voice.“The ISU won’t throw anything for you, that was their condition.But they won't have to.You can make it all on your own.”

Yuuri laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.“I hope so,” he admitted.“I still have a lot of work to do, though, if I’m to be convincing.”

Minako nodded.“I’ll leave you to practice,” she said.“I’ll be in touch, Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded wordlessly, and watched as Minako walked off with clicking heels on the concrete floor before disappearing into the shadows.

***

A few days later, Yuuri was rushing to the last meeting to go over everything for what he called in his head the Viktor Operation, and seriously regretting his life choices.

“I should _not_ have had that third muffin,” Yuuri mumbled, fumbling with his bag and cup of too-hot tea, trying to dig his badge out of his pocket so he could get into the building.“I am so late.Minako is going to _kill_ me.”He managed to spill only a little scalding tea on his hands as he flashed his badge at the guard at the door, shifted anxiously as they searched his bag, and then hurried across the busy lobby to the elevator.He waited anxiously, fidgeting, and shot through the door as soon as it opened, jamming the button for the correct floor.

“In a hurry?” one of the other occupants of the elevator chuckled, and all Yuuri could do was nod and try not to look too insane.He got off on the right floor and hurried down the hall towards the meeting room, flashing his badge again before pushing the door open.“Minako, I am _so_ sorry-” he started.

“Just have a seat, Katsuki,” Minako sighed tiredly.

Yuuri gulped, nervously surveyed the already full meeting room, and took the only empty seat between Minami and another man he didn’t recognize.“Don’t worry,” Minami whispered out of the corner of his mouth.“We haven’t really started yet.”

“Alright,” Minako said, getting to her feet and facing them.“Now that Agent Katsuki has decided to show up, we can get started.”Yuuri winced, and Minami threw him a sympathetic glance.

“The objective of this operation is to keep figure skater Viktor Nikiforov safe, and to uncover the people who threatened him before they can hurt him or anyone else,” Minako said in a businesslike voice, folding her hands in front of her and eyeing all of them.“It will be in three parts.Agent Oda will go undercover as an announcer at some of the ISU events.He will have access to areas of the competition that the general public wouldn’t be able to get to.”She gestured to a man several years older than Yuuri, who nodded seriously.

Minako turned her attention to the man sitting next to Yuuri.“Agent Morooka will go undercover as a reporter, and will make connections in order to keep an eye on the press and gather any pertinent information.”The man next to Yuuri gave Minako a small smile.

“Finally,” Minako said, turning her gaze on Yuuri, “Agent Katsuki will be going undercover as a figure skater in the same competitions as Nikiforov, which we’ve already cleared with the ISU.He will train in America under coach Celestino Cialdini until then with the pseudonym Nakamura Yuki, borrowed from the real Nakamura.”  She gave an impatient gesture to her left, and Yuuri’s attention fell on a young man at least three years his junior, with thick glasses and a Team Japan jacket.That could be no one but Nakamura.

The younger man smiled across the table at Yuuri, and said, “It’s an honor to meet you, Katsuki-san.”Yuuri smiled a little nervously.

“Minako,” Agent Oda said unsurely.“They don’t really look alike.”

Minako huffed impatiently.“They will, once Katsuki is out of Interpol mode and in character.”She squinted at Yuuri, and then said, “You know what, Yuuri, why don’t you go change your clothes now?Yuki can go with you.”

Yuuri swallowed nervously but got to his feet with a nod, slinging his bag over his shoulder again.“Alright.”He flashed Yuki a quick half smile.“Come on.”

The figure skater jumped to his feet and rounded the table, giving the Interpol agents a nervous glance over his shoulder as he left with Yuuri.Yuki laughed humorlessly when the door closed behind them.“She’s not kidding around, is she?”

“This _is_ serious,” Yuuri mumbled.

Yuki sobered.“Right.”He pushed his glasses up his nose and then cleared his throat.“Where are we going?”Yuuri beckoned him down the hall and into the bathroom off to the side.

“I’ll be right back,” Yuuri said with a tiny smile, and ducked into a stall to change out of his work clothes and into his skating clothes.

“Can I look at your skates?” Yuki asked after a moment, voice slightly echoey.

“They’re in the bag,” Yuuri replied.

He heard a zipper unzipping before Yuki said in surprise, “These are actually really good skates.”

“They’ve served me well,” Yuuri replied with a smile.When he came out, Yuki was leaning against the wall and still studying his skates.

“How much were these?” he asked.Yuuri just gave him a smile.

“How much did they tell you about what’s going on?” he asked as he crossed to the sink and washed his hands.

“Next to nothing,” Yuki grumbled.“I had to sign, like, four nondisclosure agreements.Is Viktor Nikiforov really in danger?”

Yuuri sighed, bending to get his contact case and glasses from his bag.“It seems that way,” he answered grimly.He leaned forward and squinted at himself in the mirror before pinching out one of his contacts.

“So do they really think we look enough alike for you to pass as me?” Yuki said nonchalantly.His tone was calm, but when Yuuri glanced at the younger man in the mirror he could tell it was nerves.

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Maybe it’s a little racist, but I believe Minako is banking on the assumption that most people won't know enough or care enough to bother to tell us apart, especially if you’re not in the public eye.The differences between us could be explained through maturation.”

He took out his other contact and then slid his glasses up his nose, blinking to get used to them.He hadn’t worn these since high school.He had forgotten how thick and clunky they were, and the prescription was a bit off, but it would work.Yuuri ruffled his fingers through his hair to muss it up into something that resembled a fluffy black bird’s nest.He had intentionally avoided slicking it back for that reason.

“Huh,” Yuki said thoughtfully, coming to stand next to him.“It’s not that far off, actually.”He turned and grinned crookedly at Yuuri, who smiled nervously back, shoulders slightly hunched and glasses already slipping down his nose.

Yuki pushed up his own black-framed glasses, and then slid his jacket off his shoulders and handed it to Yuuri.“Here,” he said.“It’s not an Olympic jacket, since I didn’t make it that far, but it should complete the look.”

Yuuri smiled, taking the jacket and pulling it on and facing a mirror.A version of himself that Yuuri almost didn’t recognize faced him, the jacket a little big around his shoulders, hair ruffled and falling over his face, eyes wide behind his thick glasses.

“Huh,” Yuki muttered again, his own eyes wide.“This might actually work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s a little boring, as expositions often are. Thanks for bearing with me. Also, the Interpol in this world is different from the one in our world. Imagine it like a police organization, just international. Yuuri’s basically an undercover cop (which will probably also be unrealistic because I am not a police officer).
> 
> So for Prodigy I did weekly updates, and I’m going to try that again for Confidential Information. However, I have a super hectic week coming up, so I can’t guarantee a chapter by next Monday. I’m going to say keep an eye out on or around Wednesday the 22nd. Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fabulous day, dear reader!


	2. We're Going to be Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri goes to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was honestly astounded by the attention the first chapter received, thank you! Everyone who commented, gave kudos, subscribed, or read, you're all fabulous :D
> 
> I already know I'm going to write Yuki where I mean Yuuri or Yuuri where I mean Yuki, so please feel free to correct me if you see something!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The car ride to the airport was tense, to say the least; Yuuri felt like he was on the edge of some sort of breakdown, and it took all of his strength to avoid devolving into a nervous wreck in front of Minako and Minami.

He was under a lot of pressure.If he was exposed and thrown out of the competition, Viktor could die.If he wrongly identified the culprit responsible for the threats and then left, Viktor could die.If the people who sent the threats figured out that Yuuri was a spy, Viktor could die.If he screwed it up in _any_ conceivable way, Viktor could die.

“I’m going to mess this up!” he finally burst out, leaning forward and covering his face with his hands.

“Yuuri,” Minako said, and although her voice was gentle, when he looked up her expression was harsh.“You’re not going to mess this up,” she said seriously.“You can’t afford to.”

“I know,” Yuuri mumbled, anxiously fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.The JSF had provided him with an official jacket, for authenticity’s sake, and although it was perhaps a bit warm for the day, Yuuri wanted to get used to it.He would have been over the moon that he was in some ways living out his childhood dream of skating for his country on the same ice as Viktor Nikiforov, if he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up.

“Yuuri,” Minako said, getting his attention.Yuuri glanced up to see some small amount of sympathy in her eyes.“We’re going to be behind you all the way,” she assured him.“Minami is going to be your contact for updates, and I’ll make sure I’m available if you have an emergency.You’re going to be fine.It’s not like this is your first undercover job.”

Yuuri chewed on his lip.That was true.This was his fourth time going undercover (not counting his fuck up in Shanghai), but this would be the longest time he would ever have to keep a cover up.“What if I slip?” he whispered.“What if I mess up somehow, and I’m exposed?Or what if someone figures it out?Yuki and I aren’t exact opposites, but we’re not perfectly identical and someone might be able to tell, and if they expose me then Viktor could get hurt, Viktor could die-”

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri cut himself up and avoided Minako’s eyes.He knew he was probably irritating her with his worrying, but he couldn’t help himself.His anxieties seemed to spill out unbidden.

“Yuuri,” Minako said again as Yuuri started to play with the zipper on his jacket again, moving up and down about an inch, over and over again.Minami watched him worriedly.“You’re a competent agent, Yuuri,” Minako said calmly.“You’ve gone undercover before, and have been able to keep that cover.You have experience in this field, and you’re stubborn, determined, and clever enough to be able to talk your way out of most situations.Besides, had you ever heard of Nakamura Yuki before you met him?”

Yuuri thought about that.“Maybe I’d heard his name before…” he said uncertainly, trailing off as he tried to remember the countless skating competitions he had watched on the small screen of his laptop curled up on his lumpy, uncomfortable couch back at his apartment.

“But could you pick him out of a line up?” Minako pressed.

Yuuri shook his head almost immediately.“I didn’t recognize him,” he admitted with a nervous, embarrassed little laugh.

“I’m sure Nakamura has fans,” Minako said, leaning back in her seat.“He’s not a terrible skater, for the level he was competing at.But if you, as a fairly dedicated Japanese skating fan, haven’t heard of him, it’s fairly unlikely that someone like Viktor Nikiforov, or the people with enough to power to threaten him, would know Yuki before you start competitions under his name.Besides, that’s why we put agents in the press, why we’re cooperating very closely with the ISU.We’re watching your back, Yuuri, and if somehow something leaks, both Morooka and Oda are in good positions to stifle anything that could be a danger to you or Viktor before it gets out.We have everything under control.Just focus on skating, and do your best to uncover who threatened Viktor.”

Yuuri exhaled slowly, trying to settle the churning in his stomach.“I hope I can make it that far,” he muttered.

Minako smiled at him.“Yuuri, if you weren’t working for Interpol you would probably be competing,” she said.“I have full confidence in you.”

Yuuri swallowed, trying to focus on the job rather than the fact that he would be competing in front of the world for the first time in years.It would be strange, for sure, to have to get used to the sensation of the world’s eyes on him.At least he hadn’t competed officially since he was a teenager, so hopefully no one would recognize him as himself.He knew he had changed a lot since he was eighteen.“I wish I had confidence,” Yuuri muttered to himself.

“Yuuri, we’re all going to be cheering for you,” Minami said resolutely.“I’ll organize a viewing party for our department at work.”

Yuuri covered his face, cheeks flushed, but smiled at his friend.“Thanks, Minami.”

The younger man grinned back.“I can’t wait to see you skate,” he said.“I can’t wait for everyone to see how great you are.Viktor won’t know what hit him after you steal the gold from under his nose.”

That made Yuuri laugh.“I think that’s a little unlikely, Minami-kun,” he chuckled. Minami just smiled knowingly.

“Yuuri, there’s one other thing we need to talk about,” Minako started, but a chime from Yuuri’s bag cut her off.

“Um, sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, digging his phone out of the front pocket of his bag.He glanced down at the message on his screen, surprised to see that it was a text from his sister asking him to call when he had the time.Sickening fear rocketed through Yuuri.The last time his sister had texted him asking him to call her instead of just calling him herself, his mother had tearfully told him that his childhood dog had been hit by a car, and might not recover.Later that night, Yuuri had foolishly gone out drinking and had made his subsequent fuck-up that had blown Interpol’s operation in Shanghai wide open.Vicchan had recovered with no more than a slight limp, but Yuuri was pretty sure he had developed a Pavlovian response to his sister’s texts about calling her after the incident.

“Um, is it all right-” Yuuri started, and Minako waved a languid hand.

“Go ahead, Yuuri, we still have a fewminutes until we get to the airport.”

Yuuri smiled gratefully, and then dialed his sister.“What’s the matter?” he asked as soon as someone picked up, not even bothering to let them say hello.

“It’s nice to hear from you too, Yuuri,” Mari said flatly, but Yuuri could hear the undertone of amusement in her voice.

Yuuri took a deep breath, and then said calmly, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, we’re all fine,” Mari said.“Vicchan says hello, right now he’s trying to beg food from Mama.I was calling to see if you were alright, you didn’t call.”

Yuuri blinked in surprise, and then glanced at the date on his phone and winced.“Ah, sorry,” he said quickly.“I’ve been really busy, it slipped my mind.”

Yuuri usually called his family like clockwork every Sunday night, since he didn’t see them as much now that he was living in Tokyo and working full time.He always felt guilty for not being back in Hasetsu to help with the onsen and be the son his parents had probably expected, but hearing his family’s voices every week helped alleviate that guilt and homesickness a bit.

“Oh, alright,” Mari said, sounding slightly relieved.“Sorry to bother you, then. Mama was worried, you know how she gets.”

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Mama doesn’t have to worry about me,” he said softly.He picked at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt, and then said, “Actually, I should tell you.I don’t know if I’m going to be able to call as regularly, I’m going to be out of Japan for a while.”

“New job?” Mari asked, interest clearly piqued.

“Yep,” Yuuri confirmed.“I don’t know how much I can tell you right now, but I’ll probably be out of the country for a few months.”

“So this is really long term, then,” Mari said.

“Yeah,” Yuuri murmured.“I’ll still try to call, but I’m going to be in America for a while.It’s a difficult time difference.”

“I understand, I’ll tell Mama,” Mari said.“She’ll miss hearing from you, though.Don’t forget to email us, oh great traveller.”

Yuuri chuckled, even as a speck of guilt tinged in the pit of his stomach.“You’ll still text me pictures of Vicchan, right?” he said, and Mari laughed.

“Of course, you big dork.”

Yuuri looked up to see that the car was pulling up outside Narita International Airport.“I have to go, Mari, sorry,” he said.“I’ll call when I can, alright?”

“Sounds good,” Mari agreed, and hesitated before adding hastily, “Please be safe, Yuuri.”

Yuuri smiled wanly, even though she couldn’t see him.“I’ll do my best.”Mari mumbled something that might have been affectionate, and then hung up just as the car rolled to a stop.

“Is everything alright?” Minami asked with concern in his eyes as Yuuri stuffed his phone back into his bag.

“Yep, everything’s fine,” Yuuri confirmed with a wobbly smile, the nervousness slowly flooding his stomach again.

“Come on,” Minako said impatiently, and said a few words to the driver before the three got out of the car.

“This is all you have, Yuuri?” Minami said, wrinkling his nose at the medium sized suitcase in the trunk of the car.Yuuri smiled as he grabbed it and heaved it out.

“Celestino Cialdini already provided us with the address where I’ll be living, so I had some more stuff shipped,” he said.“This is enough clothes and supplies to last until it arrives.”

Minami threw his arms around Yuuri in an excited hug, and Yuuri cautiously hugged him back, a little surprised.“Good luck, Yuuri!” Minami exclaimed.“Text me when you land, alright?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” Yuuri mumbled.

Minami let go, and grinned at him, pushing his dyed red bangs out of his eyes.“I’m going to try to come to one of your competitions,” he said.

Yuuri smiled at his friend.“Thanks, Minami-kun.I appreciate the support.”

“Minami, please get back in the car for a moment, I need to talk to Yuuri,” Minako said patiently.

Minami waved wildly.“Bye, Yuuri-san!”

Yuuri waved back, and waited until Minami got back in the car and closed the door before turning to Minako.“What’s the matter?” he asked worriedly.

Minako planted her hands on her hips.“Nothing’s the matter,” she said slowly.“Yuuri, I know you’re not going to like this, but it might be a good idea to get a gun once you’re in America.”

“Minako-” Yuuri started, but Minako held up a hand.

“Listen,” she said sternly.“I know you’re not a fan of violence.I’m not either.But even though we decided it wasn’t worth the hassle to get something like that through American security, they’re so easy to obtain over there, especially if you show your credentials as an Interpol agent… just think about it, Yuuri.You might not like it, but you might need a weapon, especially if you’re the only thing standing between Viktor and death.”

Yuuri sighed deeply.“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled, and Minako patted him on the shoulder.

“Remember, you want to be as underestimated as possible,” she said, and Yuuri nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve been practicing my heavily accented English,” he told her, and Minako laughed.

“Best of luck, Agent Katsuki,” she said formally.“I’ll await your call once you land.”

“You and everyone else,” yuuri said with a small, nervous smile.

Minako, luckily, chuckled.“Have a safe flight, Yuuri,” she said, and then got back in the car with a nod.Yuuri took a deep breath, straightened his shoulders, and then grabbed his suitcase and started to walk towards the airport.“Good luck, Yuuri-san!” Minami yelled out the window of the car.“Fly safe!”Yuuri waved over his shoulder.He didn’t look back.

***

When Yuuri staggered towards the baggage claim more than fifteen hours later, he decided he would very much welcome the sweet release of death.He felt like he was halfway there already, thoughts fuzzy and limbs numb and eyes itchy and burning and dry.

The twelve hour plane flight, paired with the stress of being squished in like sardines with a load of people he didn’t know, shuffled through line after line crammed between hard-edged suitcases and the inevitable odd-smelling person, and then working his way through the bureaucracy of the American immigration system that was only slightly aided by his badge, had tired him out.Yuuri was sure he was functioning on only stubbornness and pure adrenaline supplemented with the eight cups of coffee-sludge he had drunk on the plane.

Yuuri stopped on the side of hallway to get his bearings, looking around to make sure he wasn’t in anyone’s way.He was fluent in English, and spoke it without much of an accent when he was alert and capable of thinking clearly, but after going for nearly twenty hours without any sleep in conditions that were very stressful to him, he was having a little difficulty translating the English on the signs around him into Japanese in his head.

Yuuri rubbed at his dry eyes, pinched his arm to stay awake, and then glanced at his phone and groaned quietly to himself.It had automatically adjusted to his time zone and it was only eleven in the morning in Detroit, despite it being one in the morning back home.On a normal day, Yuuri would be in bed, probably not asleep but on the way there.

“Why did I agree to this?” Yuuri mumbled, pinching himself again so he didn’t collapse against the wall and pass out.He shouldn’t have gotten up at five in the morning for a run to distract himself, he _knew_ he was awful with jet lag.But he hadn’t been able to overcome the anxieties that plagued him late at night when he had nothing to do but lie in bed in worry, nothing to distract him from the terrible, poisonous thoughts that insisted he was going to fuck everything up again, just like last time, but this time Viktor would be dead and it would be _all him fault-_

“Is everything alright, sir?” someone asked in English, and Yuuri glanced up to see an airport employee standing in front of him.

Yuuri shook his head to wake himself up a little, and then slipped his phone back in his pocket and mumbled, “I’m fine, thank you.”

The employee blinked at him, and then said uncertainly, “Do you speak any English?”

Yuuri winced.In his exhaustion he had instinctively slipped into Japanese. “Yes, sorry,” he said, making a concentrated effort to remember how English words worked.“I’m fine, thank you.”

He hefted his backpack, smiled, and headed towards the baggage claim.He found his suitcase without too much trouble, and got through customs surprisingly quickly before making his way towards the door.He had been told that someone would pick him up, since he didn’t know the city and wasn’t in a very good condition to travel by himself, but he had no idea who was coming for him.Yuuri heaved a tiny sigh and tugged his suitcase towards the exit, passed people waiting against the walls for passengers disembarking.

“Nakamura Yuki!” someone shouted, and Yuuri ignored it.That wasn’t his nameHis name was Yuuri.

“Yuki!” someone shouted again, and then a hand grabbed Yuuri’s shoulder.Yuuri almost went into defensive mode, before relaxing.Right.He was Yuki.Fuck, it didn’t bode well for a long term undercover job if he was forgetting his “name” in the first five minutes.

Yuuri turned to face the person behind him, and found himself face to face with a young man a few years his junior, eyes bright, a wide smile on his lips.“You’re Nakamura Yuki, right?” he said in rapid, slightly accented English.“Am I pronouncing that correctly?”

Yuuri blinked in surprise, and then gather himself and said in the thickest Japanese accent he could manage at the moment, “Yes, I am Yuki.”

The young man grinned.“I’m Phichit Chulanont!” he said.“I’m one of Ciao Ciao’s skaters, we’re going to live together!”

Yuuri blinked.Phichit was speaking in understandable, albeit very quick and slightly accented, English, and Yuuri knew the words he was saying, his tired brain just couldn’t fit any of them together in an order that made sense.

“Come on!” Phichit said, gently tugging on Yuuri’s arm, and Yuuri let the excitable man lead him towards a tall man with a long ponytail that Yuuri recognized as Celestino Cialdini.He waved them over.

“Welcome to America, Yuki,” he said once they were within earshot.“I see you’ve met Phichit already.He was very excited about this.”

Phichit just grinned, bouncing slightly as he stood.“I’m super pumped,” he said.“You haven’t taken on a new skater in a while.And I’m getting a roommate!”Yuuri blinked in confusion, and then glanced at Celestino.

“My skaters room together,” the coach explained.“I thought it would be a good idea for you to share an apartment with Phichit, as he’s currently living alone.He can help you until you get used to living here.Is that alright?” Yuuri nodded tiredly.He had been warned that he might have to share an apartment, but as long as he had his own room he would be fine.

Phichit pulled a rolled piece of paper out of his back pocket, and then showed it to Yuuri.“Did I spell this right?” he asked.

Yuuri glanced down to see his alias, Nakamura Yuki, written in slightly clumsy kanji, hiragana, and along the bottom in Roman letters.He smiled slightly.“Yes.”

“Awesome!” Phichit exclaimed.“I was going to hold it up, like you do in airports, but you came out before I could find it.  Do you have everything?” 

Yuuri glanced down at his suitcase, touched the strap of his backpack over his shoulder, and then nodded.

“That’s all you have?” Phichit said doubtfully.

“More is being sent,” Yuuri told him.

Phichit grinned brightly again.“Cool! I can help you unpack if you like!”

“Phichit, don’t overwhelm him, he probably wants to sleep,” Celestino scolded, and Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“Of course, you’re probably exhausted,” Phichit said sympathetically.He patted Yuuri on the shoulder, and then said, “Come on, Yuki, we can go back to the apartment.Can we get a cab, Ciao Ciao?”

Celestino nodded.“I’m coming with you, Phichit,” he said.“I have someone watching the rink.”

Phichit nodded.“I can’t wait to show you the rink,” he said to Yuuri as they left.“It’s great. You’re going to love it.Did you ice skate competitively in Japan?Sorry, I haven’t gotten the chance to look you up yet, I only heard you were coming yesterday.”

Yuuri paused under the onslaught of questions, and then answered carefully, “I skated in Japan, but not in very many international competitions.”

He watched with interest as Celestino hailed them a cab, and then turned back to Phichit as the Thai man asked, “How old are you?”

Yuuri hesitated again, trying to remember in his exhausted state how old the real Yuki was.Nineteen?Twenty?Yuuri could pass for younger than he was, but he had to be at least twenty, right?He was only twenty three at the moment, it wasn’t like he looked _that_ old.“Twenty one,” he blurted, hoping the pause could be explained by the language barrier Phichit thought they had.

“Cool, I’m twenty,” Phichit replied, fiddling with the piece of paper still rolled up in his hands.A cab rolled up to the curb, and he asked, “Do you want me to take anything for you?”

Yuuri smiled nervously at him.“I am alright, thank you.”He heaved his suitcase into the back of the cab, and then sat in the back next to his new rink mate.

“It’s not too far,” Phichit assured him as the car pulled back onto the road.“Maybe fifteen minutes, a bit longer if the traffic is bad."

Yuuri nodded absently, drifting towards sleep even against his will.Now that he was sitting, and didn’t have to think or talk, his exhaustion was catching up to him and his eyelids felt leaden, his thoughts slow and nonsensical.Maybe Phichit asked him another question, and maybe Yuuri answered it out loud, but he couldn’t be sure because the next thing Yuuri knew Phichit was shaking him awake, saying over and over, “Yuki!Hey, Yuki, wake up.We’re here.Yuki?”

Yuuri slowly blinked his eyes and sat up in his seat, trying to rub the crick out of his neck and gather his thoughts.He flushed in embarrassment when he noticed a small smear of drool where his head had been, and quickly wiped it away.He had never been a beautiful sleeper, but the whole city of Detroit didn’t need to know that.

“Welcome back!” Phichit said brightly, and then opened the door on his side of the cab.Yuuri snuffled, rubbed at his face, and then heaved his own door open and stepped out of the cab, a little surprised by the sound of the city.He moved automatically, numbly, to get his suitcase, and then Phichit was at his side and asking worriedly, “Are you alright?Do you need any help?”

“Sorry, I never do good with jet lag, I am fine,” Yuuri mumbled, but it might have been in Japanese.Leaving Celestino to pay the cab driver, Phichit led Yuuri into the building before them (he’d have to case it later, but now he barely had the energy to walk straight, much less properly case a building) and across the lobby.

“The elevator isn’t broken, but sometimes the door jams,” Phichit told him.“You just have to get your arm in and then heave.”The elevator dinged, Phichit pushed the door opened the rest of the way, and then beckoned Yuuri in.“We’re on the third floor,” he said as he punched the correct button.“It’s kind of small, but you’ll have your own room.  Is that alright?”Yuuri nodded wordlessly, studying the ceiling and automatically registering the location of the escape panel and the camera tucked in the corner.

The elevator lurched to a stop and Phichit helped Yuuri get his suitcase out before leading his down the hall.“I’ll get you a key for later,” Phichit told him, and then let him in.Yuuri staggered into the apartment after his roommate, and waited for Phichit to close the door behind them.“You’re in there,” Phichit said, gesturing to the first door on the right down a short hallway.“Need anything else?”

Yuuri shook his head.“Sorry, just…sleep,” he stammered, trying to get words in the correct order.He wasn’t even sure he could speak comprehensible Japanese at that point.The coffee-sludge he had drunk was wearing off, and hours of travel across oceans and timezones were finally catching up to him.“Sorry, sorry,” Yuuri found himself saying, but Phichit just grinned.

“You’re fine,” he promised.“I have a rest day today, so I’ll still be here when you wake up.Do you want me to get you up at a specific time?”

Yuuri shook his head, already tugging his suitcase in the direction of his room.“No, alarm, arigatō,” he mumbled.

“See you!” Phichit said brightly, waving.Yuuri managed a weak smile back before staggering into his small room and closing the door behind him.

Yuuri left his suitcase in the middle of the room and collapsed into bed without even bothering to look around.He toed off his shoes and peeled off his jacket, leaving both in a small pile on the floor.Yuuri managed to fumble open his phone and set an alarm for later, and then dropped it on the floor and closed his eyes.He was asleep almost immediately.

***

Yuuri was woken up by the obnoxious, discordant sound of his alarm, and jerked awake before relaxing.“Why did I set it to that?” he mumbled, fumbling to turn off the alarm, which he had somehow set to play the sound of a Klaxon, and then glanced at the time.Exhausted, jet lagged Yuuri (who was almost as inept and potentially destructive as drunk Yuuri) had set the alarm for three in the afternoon, which wasn’t unreasonable.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes, covered a yawn with his hand, and then swung his legs over the side of the bed.He was still tired, a bone-deep and pervasive exhaustion, but if he didn’t get up he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night and it would be harder to adjust.

Yuuri sighed, and then looked around at his new place of residence for the next few months.Phichit hadn’t been lying when he had said it was small; there was very little available floor space, with a bed and a desk crammed in against the walls and a closet next to the desk and a window across from the bed, and the walls were bare and slightly cracked, but Yuuri didn’t need much space anyways.Most importantly, Yuuri found as he got up, there was a serviceable lock on the door, a bed to sleep in, and outside the window was a fire escape for easy exit.

Yuuri pulled his suitcase next to the bed, out of the way, and then quickly rifled through his belongings.Once he had ascertained that no one had disturbed his things or looked through his papers (both authentic and false), Yuuri rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as best he could and then got to his feet and padded out into the main area of the apartment.

Phichit was sprawled out in what was probably supposed to be the living room, phone in hand and a newspaper spread out across his lap.“Hey,” he said amiably when Yuuri emerged.“Glad to see you up. What time is it?”

“Just after three,” Yuuri mumbled, yawning behind one hand and raking his fingers through his hair. His stomach growled embarrassingly, and he blushed.

Phichit just chuckled.“Yeah, you kind of missed lunch,” he said.“I have leftovers.You want?”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said with a nod, and Phichit got off the couch and lead him into the small kitchen.

“I know we have to have specific diets, as competitive figure skaters,” the Thai man said with a grin.“But one cheat day is probably fine.Do you like pizza?”

Yuuri nodded.“Pizza is good,” he said quietly, and Phichit winked at him as he pulled a plastic bag full of pizza slices from the refrigerator.

“It’s vegetable pizza, with a low-carb crust, so it’s not completely cheating,” Phichit admitted as he pulled two slices out of the bag and put them in the microwave.“But don’t tell Ciao Ciao, OK?”

Yuuri nodded again, and the two stood in silence until the microwave beeped and Phichit took the pizza out.“Here you are,” he said, putting the pizza on a plate and handing it to Yuuri.Yuuri smiled gratefully, stomach growling again.He hadn’t had pizza in a long time.

Phichit sat down at the small round table next to the door of the kitchen, and Yuuri followed his lead.“So… if we’re going to be living together, we should talk about some boundaries,” Phichit said hesitantly, not meeting Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri froze, pizza halfway to his mouth.Had Celestino mentioned that Yuuri worked for Interpol to Phichit?Was Phichit going to threaten him?Yuuri hadn’t known the young man long enough to get a good read on him.

“It’s nothing bad!” Phichit added hastily, seeing the expression on Yuuri’s face.“It’s just… two people, even two friends, can end up not being compatible to live together,” Phichit explained.  "I’d really like this to work out.I’d really…. I’d really like to be friends, as long as you want the too.So we should figure out some of the things we’re each going to need to live together.”

Yuuri nodded, finally relaxing enough to take a bite of his pizza.He winced and mumbled a muffled a curse when he promptly burned the roof of his mouth and tip of his tongue.

Phichit winced sympathetically.“Yeah, sorry,” he said.Yuuri put the pizza down, deciding to let it cool, and waited attentively for Phichit to finish making his point

Phichit chewed on his lip, ran his fingers through his hair, and then said slowly, “I know I can be…. a bit much.A lot of people tell me that, even my friends.So just… don’t be afraid to tell me if you need space.”

Yuuri smiled hesitantly.“Thank you,” he said sincerely.“Please tell me if you need the same.”

“This is going to sound very rude, but how good is your English?” Phichit asked.“I notice you have a pretty strong accent.I know I talk pretty fast.”

“My English could be better,” Yuuri said carefully, remembering what Minako had said. _Be underestimated._

Phichit grinned at him.“So could mine,” he said.“We can practice together!”

Yuuri smiled.“I’d like that,” he said shyly.

Phichit gave him a bright smile.“It will be nice to have another foreign skater at the rink,” he said.“Most of Ciao Ciao’s skaters are from the US and Canada.His last two fromoff the continent left last year.None of the others really want to practice English with me.”

Yuuri pushed his glasses up his nose.“What is the rink like?” he said.

“We can go around later if you like,” Phichit offered.

Yuuri nodded.“That would be nice,” he said.

Phichit nodded vehemently.“Definitely,” he said definitively.“Have you talked to Ciao Ciao about practice schedules yet?” he asked.

Yuuri hesitated.“I assume Ciao Ciao is Celestino?” he asked.

Phichit nodded.“I call him that because he says it all the time,” he explained.“He says he hates it, but I don’t think he does.”

Yuuri smiled slightly, and took another tentative bite of his pizza, glad to find that it was cooler this time around.  "No, we have not yet talked about practice schedules," he replied.

Phichit took a deep breath, fiddled with his fingers for a moment, and then seemed to steel himself before saying, “Yuki, Ciao Ciao told me about your anxiety.”

Yuuri swallowed hard, a slow, sick feeling seeping into his stomach.“What did he tell you?” he whispered, mortification creeping up upon him.He could feel his face flushing.

“Not very much,” Phichit said, looking incredibly awkward.He inhaled.“Listen, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything, but is there anything I should know?Anything I can do to help?”

Yuuri bit his lip, and picked at a hangnail.There could be a lot of stigma in Japan about mental health, and although his family and friends had always been fairly understanding and had done as much as possible to help accommodate for him, Yuuri still felt a little weird talking about it.He didn’t want anyone to see him as weak, especially not someone who might become his friend.“I am fine,” he mumbled.“I can manage on my own.”

Phichit hesitated again.“I… I don’t want to push,” he said nervously.“But I want you to be able to trust me, like I want to trust you.”

A wiggle of guilt squirmed in Yuuri’s stomach as he remembered all the lies he was telling just to be there.“I have gotten better at managing any anxiety I experience,” he said quickly, before he could talk himself out of it.“I have breathing exercises and I know what to do if I have a panic attack.I should be alright.”

“Any medication I should know about?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri fiddled with the crust of his slice of pizza.“Please do not worry about me,” he said softly.He had medication in his suitcase if he needed it, and Minako had given him a list of discreet counselors in his area if his anxiety got any worse with the coming competition and the stress of having to protect Viktor from an unknown threat.

“Thank you for telling me,” Phichit said with a smile, sensing how uncomfortable Yuuri was.“I appreciate it, Yuki.”

Yuuri looked up.“Is there anything that you need?” he asked.“Is there anything that I should know about living with you?”

Phichit grinned, leaning back slightly as his posture relaxed.“Like I said, I’ve been told I can be a bit much,” he admitted.“I take a lot of pictures for social media, so you’ll have to let me know if that’s going to be an issue.”

Yuuri shook his head.“That doesn’t bother me,” he said with a small smile.He was fairly sure Interpol didn’t advertise pictures of their agents, so it probably wouldn’t help anyone recognize him.

Phichit grinned back.“It looks like we’re going to be friends, Yuki,” he said, sticking out his hand.

Yuuri smiled back, and shook it.“I think so too.”

Phichit nodded firmly.“Friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, another kind of boring chapter... Hopefully Viktor's POV next chapter, though! Expect that chapter on or around ~~Tuesday the 28th,~~ Thursday the 30th as I don't know how much writing I'm going to be able to do this weekend. As always, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	3. It's Lonely at the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor reflects on his success, and Yuuri goes ice skating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! For those of you don't know me, I'm Addy. My middle name might as well be late, because that's what I always am... I'm sorry for the delay, this chapter ended up being a bit longer than I expected or intended, and I got distracted by [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810429/chapters/29242422). Thank you so much for your patience and continued support!
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Viktor isn't in the best state of mind during this chapter, and isn't making the best choices for his personal health or wellbeing. I hope I faithfully depicted this depression, but if there's something I can do better feel free to politely let me know. His point of view is the first two sections of this chapter, so if that's going to be an issue I might advise you skip it. Please take care of yourselves!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor woke slowly, consciousness seeping into his mind and filling him with a sense of broken wakefulness.

He lay where he was for a while before finally opening his eyes a crack, staring at the wall through his eyelashes.He was in his hotel room, the one he was staying in for Worlds, and he had forgotten to close the shades completely.Grey bars of sunlight wormed through the cracks in the blinds and fell haphazardly on the muted beige carpeting, creating a tangled knot of shadows and light on the floor. Viktor listlessly traced the patterns with his eyes, going around and around the same gloomy paths, until someone shifted in the bed beside him.

Viktor froze for a moment, something almost like fear stirring in his chest, before relaxing again.Right.He had brought someone back to his room after the banquet, had sex with and then fell asleep with someone whose name he wasn’t even sure he remembered.

Viktor suddenly felt filthy, and levered himself out of bed, padding silently towards the bathroom.Just before he closed the door, he glanced over at the bed, at the man still asleep there.James, that was his name.A skater from England.Hopefully James would be gone by the time Viktor got out of the shower.

Viktor let the bathroom door shut with a small click and then slid down the wall to sit on the cold bathroom floor.“Fuck,” he whispered, and then buried his face in his hands, fingers tangled in his slightly greasy hair.He sat there for a few minutes, trying to muster up the drive to actually stand, turn on the water, clean himself, but he couldn’t make his muscles move.

In the hotel room behind him something shifted, and then James tapped on the bathroom door and purred in a low, seductive voice, “Up for another round, Vitya?”Viktor cringed on the inside.Not even the thought of an attractive, physically fit young man standing naked outside the door was getting him aroused.

“Please just go,” he called, hoping his voice didn’t tremble as much as he thought it did.“I have an early flight this morning.”That wasn’t true at all, but James didn’t have to know that.

The other skater huffed a sound of reluctant assent, and after a few minutes of shuffling around Viktor heard the hotel room door close with a definitive clunk.Viktor kept himself from standing, from quickly dressing and running after him, from inviting him back to bed with an apology and a charming smile.

More sex wasn’t going to help.It wasn’t going to make him feel less hollow; It never did.

All in all it took Viktor about fifteen minutes to talk himself into standing up and actually getting in the shower, and another few minutes before he turned the water on and began to listlessly wash himself.He went through the motions of showering automatically, and when he got out dried himself off and got dressed in a daze.

In the mirror, Viktor very carefully did his hair so it hung exactly how he wanted it over his too-wide forehead, and then skillfully applied makeup to hide both the love bites visible above the collar of his shirt and the bags beneath his eyes.Once he was done, Viktor wandered out into the main part of the hotel room and grabbed his cell phone before sitting down delicately on the edge of the rumpled bed.

He scrolled through his Instagram feed for a little while, automatically liking and commenting on photos before posting a suggestive one of his own with a wide, false smile on his lips and the crumpled sheets in the background.He glanced at the time after a while, surprised to see that it was past the time Yakov would usually come over to yell at him to get his ass in gear.

Viktor sighed quietly, and then lay back on his bed and dialed Yakov.The coach picked up on the third ring with a gruff, “What do you want, Vitya?”

“Good morning to you too, Yakov!” Viktor exclaimed with a lot more cheer than he felt.“How are you today?”

“Is there something you needed?” Yakov snapped.

Viktor raised an eyebrow.Now that he was paying more attention, it sounded like Yakov was in a busy location, rather than the quiet of his hotel room.Viktor thought he heard talking in Japanese in the background.“Where are you?” he asked, absently checking his nails before staring up at the ceiling.

“I have business, you’re on your own for the morning,” Yakov said sharply in irritation.

Viktor’s lips quirked into a small, genuine smile.“What business, Yakov?” he asked teasingly.

“Nothing to do with you, Vitya, stay out of it,” Yakov snapped abruptly, and then cleared his throat.Viktor’s smile widened.Yakov’s business was definitely about him.The coach was a lot of things, but a good liar was not one of them.

“By the way,” Yakov said suspiciously.“Were you alone last night?I thought I heard talking.”

“No, I wasn’t alone,” Viktor said.“I had another skater over.We had a good time.”That wasn’t necessarily the truest thing in the world, but Yakov would never know.

“Viktor!” Yakov said scoldingly, and Viktor’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes, Yakov?” he said in what he knew was a maddeningly calm voice.

“Vitya, you can’t do that anymore!” Yakov bellowed.

Viktor raised an elegant eyebrow.“Why, Yakov, I thought you accepted me for who I am?” he said.

Yakov made an incoherent spluttering sound, and then said angrily, “I don’t care what gender he was!You can’t bring strangers back with you to spend the night alone together!It’s dangerous!”

Viktor sat up with a frown, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.There was a tinge of genuine fear to Yakov’s voice, a tinge that Viktor’s hadn’t heard since he was sixteen and a very overenthusiastic fan had tried to break into his apartment.Last time, Viktor had ended up moving and they had started the farce of his false apartment. This time, Viktor was digging in his heels.

“Oh, is this about that silly letter?” he said, purposefully in a voice that he knew made him sound like an airhead.“It’s nothing to worry about, Yakov, I told you.”

He could hear the scowl in Yakov’s voice when the coach said, “I don’t care what you think, Vitya, you’re not allowed to bring strangers home without a background check.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes.“I’m an adult, Yakov,” he said sweetly.“I have been for a while, now.I think I can make that judgement myself.”

There was a long moment of silence from the other end.

“And don’t forget what we talked about, we’re not going to the police,” Viktor added, pulling his legs up underneath him as he steeled himself.He couldn’t afford for any word of the "threats" he had received to get out.If people knew that he, The Viktor Nikiforov, had been threatened and was scared, other people would use that to their advantage.Besides, if for whatever reason the ISU decided that the threats Viktor had received were serious, they might not let him skate.Viktor couldn’t care less if he won anymore, with how empty he felt most of the time, but if he didn’t skate he had no idea what he’d do with his life.

“Vitya, I really think it would be a good idea to tell someone,” Yakov said over the phone.

“And I disagree,” Viktor said pleasantly.“So we’re not telling anyone.Right?”

There was another long pause, and then Yakov said sharply, “I’ll be back in a few hours, Vitya.Make sure Yura eats something.”

“I’m not his babysitter,” Viktor said in annoyance, and then sighed.“Yes.Fine.”

“I’ll see you,” Yakov said, and then hung up before Viktor was able to.

Viktor let the phone drop into his lap and sighed deeply.He suspected that Yakov may have already said something about the ridiculous threats Viktor had received before going to Worlds, but hopefully the Russian police would keep it discreet for the time being.

Viktor got up, and as he was walking across the room to put his phone away, someone pounded on the door as if on cue.Viktor sighed in fond exasperation, and then opened the door to his hotel room to let Yuri Plisetsky in.The younger Russian barged in, scowling.

“I want to go sightseeing,” he said.“Take me.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, closing the door behind him.“Why can’t Gosha?” he asked mildly.

“Because Georgi is dumb, and if I have to listen to him blather on about his stupid girlfriend for one more second someone’s going to end up dead,” Yuri scowled.“I haven’t decided yet if it’s going to be you, or him.”

“Why me?” Viktor asked with a smirk.

Yuri’s scowl deepened.“Because you get your own room, loser,” he said.“How is that fair?”

Viktor gestured lazily to the gold medal lying abandoned on top of his suitcase.“I’m the reigning world champion.I needed to rest after my skate.”

Yuri snorted derisively.“Sure, _rest_ ,” he scoffed.“I’m in the room next to yours, Viktor.It sounded super _restful._ ”

Viktor shrugged, unapologetic.“I’m an adult, Yura, that’s just what adults do,” he replied.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yuri said, making a face.“So, are you taking me sightseeing or what?”

Viktor puffed out a breath of air, blowing his bangs out of his eyes.“Why can’t you go on your own?”

Yuri scowled, and then said in an almost perfect imitation of Yakov, “You can go out on your own when you’re a senior, Yura, but while you’re a junior you need adult supervision.”Yuri clenched his fists.“I’m fifteen!He’s so stupid!I can take care of myself, I’m the junior world champion!My senior debut is literally less than a year away.”

Viktor chuckled slightly.Yuri had a point.A few months wouldn’t make much of a difference.It was only fair that Yuri get to do something fun, after getting dragged along to the World Championships immediately after the conclusion of Junior Worlds.“Fine, sure,” he said.“I was going to go out anyways.”He had been planning to go out and wander aimlessly through the city until he had to pack for their flight back to Russia, but Yuri didn’t need to know that.“Just let me get dressed.”

Yuri wrinkled his nose.“You’re already dressed,” he said.

Viktor looked down at himself, at the faded t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.“Not for the public, I’m not,” he said.“Wait here.”He grabbed another pair of clothes and went to the bathroom to change. When he was done, he returned to see Yuri leaning against the wall staring down at his phone.

“Ready?” he said impatiently, squinting at Viktor as Viktor slipped his phone into his pocket and grabbed a light jacket and sunglasses.

“Sure,” Viktor said with a sigh.“Let’s go.We’re getting something to eat first, though.”Yuri snorted, but followed as Viktor left the room and closed the door behind him.  “Does Georgi know you’re out?” Viktor asked.

Yuri nodded.“He’s on a video call with his girlfriend until we need to go to the airport,” he replied.“He’s so fucking _clingy.”_

Viktor just shrugged.“He thinks he’s in love,” he said simply, and Yuri let it drop.

Inevitably, as soon as they reached the lobby of the hotel, people began to recognizes them, since the area was still filled with skating fans even after the competition the day before.“It’s Viktor Nikiforov!” someone called, and before long they were surrounded by fans and other people who wanted to talk to them.

Viktor flicked his bangs out of his eyes with a practiced motion, and then gave them Media Smile #4, guaranteed to make anyone, regardless of gender or sexuality, swoon.  This was how things were.  Viktor gave and gave, until he wasn't sure he had anything left to give to himself, and all he could do was keep smiling and pretend like everything was perfect.  

Yuri scowled as Viktor interacted with his fans, and by the time they finally got free the teenager was scowling furiously. “You don’t have to do that,” he said as they left the hotel.

“Do what?” Viktor asked, sliding his sunglasses up his nose and shrugging his jacket over his shoulders.

“You don’t have to smile for them,” Yuri said with a thoughtful frown.“You could just tell them to go away.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, gave Yuri a humorless smile.“Like I could tell you to go away?”

That shut Yuri up for the time being, but Viktor thought he caught a mumbled, “I’m not your fucking fan, loser.”

Viktor just sighed, and resigned himself to another day of pretending like he felt the smiles he gave the world.

***

The first thing Viktor did when he got home from the airport after his 13 hour flight from Japan was get his dog from the pet sitter and give her all the love she had missed while he was gone.As soon as Viktor entered the room where Makkachin had been asleep, the poodle jumped to her feet and bounded across the room, jumping on him.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Viktor laughed, dropping his bag so he could hug his poodle.He knelt, and Makka immediately gave him a big lick on the cheek before leaning against his side.Viktor smiled and kissed his dog on the tip of the nose.“Hey, I missed you,” he murmured. Makka barked in reply, licking his face again.Viktor laughed happily.He had missed his dog while in Japan.

He quickly paid the pet sitter and then clipped the leash to Makkachin’s collar before leading her outside, grabbing his bag on the way by.Makkachin trotted happily by Viktor’s side as they walked through the familiar streets of St. Petersburg.She barked happily when they reached Viktor’s apartment, and slipped through the crack in the door as soon as Viktor opened and unlocked it.

“Eager to be home?” Viktor murmured, and closed the door behind him.Yakov had already dropped off his suitcases, and they were gathered in a cluster just inside the door.Viktor moved the cluster, and then closed and locked the apartment door behind him.

“Home sweet home,” he muttered bitterly, hanging his jacket on a hook by the door and toeing off his shoes before collapsing on the couch.He was exhausted after his plane flight, and jet lagged from the time difference between Russia and Japan, so although it was early evening in Russia it was much later in Japan.

Makkachin padded over to where he lay, and nosed wetly at his cheek.“Food?” Viktor asked tiredly, bringing up a hand to tangle in her soft curls.Makkachin licked the inside of his wrist, and Viktor heaved himself up and off the couch.

“Anything for you, girl,” he said with a small smile, and kept his fingers tangled in Makkachin’s fur as they walked to the kitchen.He poured some food and water into abowl for her, and murmured, “Sorry, the fare’s not so great tonight.I’ll go to the store tomorrow.”Makkachin just yipped happily, and dug in to her supper.

“I guess I should eat as well,” Viktor muttered unenthusiastically.He rummaged through his fridge before finding some bread that looked passable still and some cold cuts that were only a day past the sell by date.

Viktor made himself a sandwich and sat at the table to eat it, washing the dismal meal down with a cup of lukewarm tap water.When he was finished eating, he washed his dishes without turning on the light in the rapidly darkening kitchen before grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet and heading to his bedroom.

Viktor changed his clothes into a more comfortable pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, and then sat down on his bed and stared at the floor, cradling the alcohol in his lap.His gold medal lay nearly forgotten in his luggage, wrapped with care by Yakov, and for a moment Viktor considered getting it out.He had a trophy cabinet, of course.He would have to put the medal in the case before Yakov came over, or else the coach would yell at him for taking his victories for granted and not appreciating the skill he had been gifted with.

Viktor frowned slightly at the thought, fingers toying with the edge of the bottle in his hands.Yakov wouldn’t be wrong.At the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to actually care about the gold in his suitcase, to care about the fame and the fortune he had fought so hard for in the past.It didn’t really _mean_ anything.People expected him to win now, expected him to be the best.He had completely lost the ability to surprise his audience before, and that was the one thing that had kept him going during the hardest years of his career, when he was just starting out on the international stage.

Viktor was at the top of his game now, the top of the world, but he felt like he had accomplished nothing.He had won some medals, sure, some championships and competitions, but once he lost his edge, once he was overtaken by the next up and coming champion, his name would fade and be lost to history.

It scared Viktor, the idea of being forgotten, because sometimes he felt like he was halfway there already.True, the press, his fans, the skating world at large knew him.But when he stayed at the rink after hours, when Yakov went home to Lilia, and Georgi to his girlfriend, and even little Yuri to his grandfather, it wasn’t hard to imagine that he’d always be like this.That he’d always be alone.And that made the medals worthless, because he had no one to share his success with, no one that was really, truly, purely proud of him.

It was true, what he had always heard.It was lonely at the top.

Viktor clenched his jaw, and then deliberately pried the top off the bottle of vodka.He didn’t have to train tomorrow.Yakov had given everyone who had performed at Worlds the next three days off, to rest and recover from the stress of competing and to catch up on sleep.Viktor knew that he would inevitably end up at the rink the next day anyway, skating to keep himself sane.Maybe he would start choreographing his routines for next season.But for now, he was completely free to drink himself into a stupor.No one would care, no one would even know unless someone happened to drop by the next morning before Viktor woke up.

He heard Makkachin wandering around in the other room, and listened until he heard her dog tags jingle as she settled herself on the couch.She would probably come to sleep in his bed later.Until then, Viktor was alone.He stared down at the open bottle of vodka for a moment, and then smiled without humor.

“To victory,” he toasted bitterly to the empty, cold bedroom, and then slowly took the first sip of the night.

***

“This is the rink!” Phichit said excitedly, grinning as he led Yuuri into the ice rink.“What do you think, Yuki?”

Yuuri smiled, looking around.The ice rink was a lot bigger than the one back in Hasetsu, or even the one he had practiced at in Tokyo.“It is impressive,” he said quietly, sliding his glasses up his nose before looking up at the high ceiling.“It is bigger than I expected,” he admitted with a small smile.

Phichit grinned back.“Tell me about it,” he said with a laugh.“It’s a lot bigger than my home rink back in Bangkok.I was shocked when I first got here.”

Yuuri laughed under his breath, adjusting his grip on his bag.He and Phichit had both brought work out clothes and their skates, even if they didn’t plan to do any more than fool around on the ice for the time being.

“Shall we skate?” Phichit asked with bright eyes and a genuine, happy smile.

Yuuri smiled back.“Alright.”

The two walked to the locker rooms, but just as they were getting out Celestino noticed them.He said something to the skater he was working with, and then quickly walked over.“What are you two doing here?” he asked once he was within earshot.

Phichit grinned.“We’re here to skate,” he replied.“I wanted to show Yuki around the rink.”

Celestino frowned.“Are you up to this, Yuki?” he asked.“You’re not too tired?”

Yuuri smiled.“No, but thank you,”he said, tugging absently at the hem of his shirt.“I appreciate your concern.”

Celestino sighed deeply.“Please don’t hurt yourselves,” he said before returning to the skater he was working with.

Phichit grinned.“Got it!” he called.He smiled at Yuuri, who smiled tentatively back, and then the two went to sit on a bench to pull on their skates.What do you want to do?” Phichit asked, tightening the laces on his left skate.

Yuuri shrugged, picking absently at the edge of one of his skate guards.“I do not really care.”

“Do you have anything choreographed for this season?” Phichit asked with a smile, standing.

Yuuri followed him, taking off his skate guards before stepping onto the ice.He instantly relaxed.He was exhausted, yes, and anxious as hell about his whole situation, but there was something about having the ice under his skates the made things seem a little less daunting.“Not yet,” he said, answering Phichit’s question.“I’ve been thinking about it, but I have not made any decisions.”

And Yuuri was by no means a choreographer.He could imagine what could look nice, sure, and sometimes he made up step sequences when he was feeling particularly creative, but he probably wouldn’t be able to choreograph an entire short program and free program by himself, especially without picking music first.

“What are you going to do?” Yuuri asked, skating backwards so he could face Phichit.

The Thai man grinned.“Ciao Ciao is finally letting me skate to songs from my favorite movie,” he replied.“ _The King and the Skater,_ have you heard of it?”

Yuuri considered that.“Sorry, I do not think I have,” he replied.

Phichit looped around him, skates scraping on the ice.“That’s alright.I think it’s the most popular in Thailand.We’ll just have to watch it together.”

He gave Yuuri a hopeful look, and Yuuri replied with a shy smile.“I would like that,” he said.

Phichit gave him a one thousand watt grin.“Awesome!” he chirped.“Maybe next rest day?”

Yuuri’s smile widened in reply.“What is it about?”

“Oh, it’s super interesting,” Phichit said, and then launched into an explanation of what seemed to be a very convoluted plot.Yuuri listened with interest, amused by the way his new friend’s eyes lit up and how his voice rose as he started to tell Yuuri about the climax of the movie.Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed two others skating over to them, and very carefully turned his body slightly so he could see them better.It was unlikely that they were a threat, but if figure skaters were being endangered, it was never bad to be too careful.

“Hey, Chit,” one of the skaters said, coming up on Phichit’s left.“Who’s the new guy?”

Phichit interrupted himself, and smiled.“Oh, that’s Nakamura Yuki,” he said with a friendly motion in Yuuri’s direction.Yuuri smiled cautiously, trying his best to look unassuming and shy (it wasn’t too hard) and gave them a little wave.

The other skater, a girl a few years younger than Yuuri, looked him over and said, “It’s nice to meet you… Nakamura?”

“Yuki is fine,” Yuuri replied, nervously digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand.If he was going to be able to convince some of the world’s greatest skaters and a plethora of skating fans that he knew what he was doing, he would have to convince his rink mates as well.

“Where are you from, Yuki?” the other skater asked with a brilliant smile.

“Japan,” Yuuri answered.

The boy's grin widened, and he brushed blonde curls out of his eyes.“Well, welcome to America, Yuki,” he said.“How much has Phichit been talking your ear off?”

“Hey!” Phichit squawked in mock indignation, and then they exchanged smiles.

“Nicholas!Brianna! Back to practice, please!” Celestino called from across the rink, arms crossed over his chest and an expression of exasperated amusement on his face.

“Coming!” Brianna called, and turned to Yuki.“Let me know if you ever want someone to show you around,” she said before winking and skating away.Nicholas followed her with a wave and a grin.

Yuuri blinked in surprise.“Um…?”

“Welcome to America,” Phichit laughed.

Yuuri shook his head to focus himself, and then asked, “What sort of practice regimes do you have around here?”

“Mostly it’s tailored to the specific skater,” Phichit replied.“Ciao Ciao will talk to you about yours later, I’m sure.”

Yuuri nodded.Phichit grinned at him, winked, and skated in a small circle around Yuuri before tripping into a little waltz jump. “I’m hoping that this year I’ll be able to make it to the Grand Prix Finals, or at least medal at one of the qualifiers,” he said.“Do you think you’ll get anywhere?”

Yuuri ran his fingers through his hair, sighing.“I want to get to the Grand Prix Finals,” he said nervously.The ISU had agreed to put him into the same qualifying cups for the Grand Prix series as Viktor, but he would have to make it to the finals on his own merit.

“I tried to find footage of you skating while you were taking a nap,” Phichit said unashamedly, and Yuuri flushed, grateful that there probably weren’t too many videos of Yuki online that would be easily accessible in America.“Would you mind showing me anything?”

Yuuri took a deep breath.“Sure,” he said.

Phichit grinned encouragingly, and skated to the edge of their small section of the rink.“Go ahead.”

Yuuri came to a stop, frowning thoughtfully, and then slowly slid into a step sequence he had been toying with for a little while, gliding with his arms behind his back and his head bowed.He raised his eyes and transitioned into a death drop before going back to another step sequence, and then skipped where a double flip would be before moving into a final short step sequence. Yuuri straightened, and then ended in position with one arm wrapped around himself and the other by his side.

“Wow!” Phichit exclaimed, skating over and smiling brightly.“That was amazing!”

Yuuri blushed, letting his posture relax.“It is not much,” he said, deciding not to tell Phichit that his little routine was based on one of Viktor’s from several years ago.

“You skate like you’re dancing,” Phichit told him.“It’s super interesting to watch.”

Yuuri blushed harder.“I used to do ballet, before I started skating” he admitted.

“Do you still dance?” Phichit had to know.

Yuuri nodded.“Sometimes, for cross training,” he said honestly.“But I do not get the chance to dance as often anymore.”He sighed quietly.He missed being able to dance sometimes.

“Please don’t take offense,” Phichit said curiously, absently digging his toe pick into the ice a bit.“But how come you chose to go into ice skating rather than ballet?You could have been a really excellent danseur, I bet.”

Yuuri smiled.“Thank you,” he said.“I, um… I have a lot of performance anxiety.”He hated to admit it, but it was the truth.That was one of the main reasons he had decided to work for Interpol, rather than pursue ice skating or ballet as a career.And yet he found himself on the ice anyway.

Phichit eyed him curiously.“Is it better on the ice?” he asked.

Yuuri’s fists clenched instinctively as his stomach fluttered, and it took him a moment to relax.“Not really,” he mumbled.“I will manage.”

Phichit nodded, and then gave Yuuri a tentative smile.“I’m looking forward to skating against you, Yuki,” he said.

Yuuri smiled nervously back, even as his stomach made the unwise decision to tie itself into knots.“I am looking forward to skating against you too.”

Phichit’s smile turned mischievous.“Oh yeah?” he said.“Race!” Yuuri laughed as the younger man took off across the rink, and then skated after him.

Yuuri and Phichit skated together for a few more hours, fooling around with step sequences and a few small jumps, but Celestino gave them glares whenever they did doubles so Yuuri quickly stopped.Phichit, it seemed, was more adept at ignoring the vague displeasure of their coach.

“You… you have a lot more stamina than I do,” the Thai man finally panted, skating to the edge of the rink and leaning against the boards after another race around.

Yuuri smiled, wiping the sweat off his forehead.“Thank you.”He glanced around the rink.During the time that he and Phichit had been skating, most of the skaters had finished their official practices and gone home, leaving the ice mostly empty.“One more race?” Yuuri offered teasingly, and grinned when he saw Phichit’s horrified expression.

“How about dinner?” Phichit suggested.“It’s been a few hours since your late lunch, and my early one.I could eat a whale.”

Yuuri smiled.“That sounds good,” he agreed, and together they made their way off the ice and over to their things.

“With stamina like that, you could put a bunch of your jumps into the second half of your program for extra points,” Phichit said as he pulled off his skates and replaced them with tennis shoes.

Yuuri smiled, and wiped some of the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt.“Maybe,” he agreed vaguely.He was too tired to think clearly, much less choreograph a skating routine.

“Hey, Phichit!” one of the few remaining skaters called, beckoning the Thai man over.

Phichit flashed Yuuri a grin.“I’ll be back in a sec,” he said before bounding off.Yuuri smiled to himself, sitting down to take off his ice skates.

“Yuki,” someone said, and Yuuri glanced up to see Celestino standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, studying him with an odd expression in his eyes.“Or Yuuri,” the coach amended.“Which do you want me to call you in private?”

Yuuri stood, leaving his ice skates on the bench and facing the coach on his socked feet.“I’d prefer Yuki,” he replied, letting his Japanese accent drop.“Just to get in the habit, so you don’t slip by accident in front of others.”

A brief flicker of surprise flashed across the coach’s face, and then he nodded.“I understand,” he said.“I want to give you a little time to get used to living here and adjust to the time difference, but could you come in tomorrow to talk about a training regimen?”

Yuuri nodded.“I want to get on the ice as soon as possible,” he said resolutely.“I’ll need all the practice I can fit in if I’m going to make it to the Grand Prix Finals.”

“You really think you can make it?” Celestino asked, more curious than judgmental.

Yuuri gulped.“I hope so,” he said.“I _need_ to.”

Celestino nodded thoughtfully.“And I’ll do my best to help you get there,” he said.

There was a loud burst of laughter from across the room, and they both looked over to see Phichit doubled over giggling, the skater who had called him over covering his face as he chuckled.“Thank you for tolerating him, at least,” Celestino murmured.

Yuuri cocked his head thoughtfully.“I like him,” he said.“He reminds me a little of one of my friends back in Japan.”Phichit and Minami were very different people, of course, but there was something about Phichit’s cheerful, bubbly ennthusiasm and easy smile, coupled with his genuine kindness and concern, that reminded him of Minami.“I didn’t expect to make any friends here,” Yuuri murmured, almost too quiet for Celestino to hear.“But… so far, I’m glad to have met him.”

Celestino hummed in agreement, and then said, “Phichit is greatly liked by most, but he’s loved by few.I think it would be good for him to have someone like you as his friend.” Yuuri smiled at that.

Celestino turned to face him.“Yuuri,” he said seriously, and then corrected himself.“Yuki.I know it’s not technically in your assignment, but please do your best to keep Phichit out of danger, yes?He has a bright future ahead of him.I don’t want him to get hurt.”

Yuuri nodded.“I’ll try to keep him safe and out of this mess,” he replied.

Celestino met his eyes, gaze steely.“Promise me.”

Yuuri inhaled quietly, and then nodded.“I promise,” he said.

***

“So a few boxes came after you went to bed,” Phichit said the next morning at breakfast.

Yuuri blinked groggily at him, and then rubbed the sleep from his eyes.“Huh?”

“I think they’re yours,” Phichit added.“Be right back.”He got up, and returned a moment later with a box in his arms, setting it down on the small kitchen table with a thump.

Yuuri swallowed his bite of cereal, and then eyed the box.“I think it is mine, yes,” he said, squinting at the neat kanji written in the top corner where the return address was supposed to go.“That looks like Minami’s handwriting,” he muttered to himself.

“So what’s in it?” Phichit asked eagerly.

Yuuri caught his tongue between his teeth, thinking.“Honestly, I am not sure,” he said.“I packed most of my own boxes.I do not remember packing this one.”And if Minami was the one to pack it, Yuuri was a little concerned as to what the contents would be.Knowing Minami, it would either be something really nice, or something supremely embarrassing.

“There’s a few more,” Phichit told him.“Maybe seven or eight?”He gestured, and Yuuri followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room, where several boxes were stacked up by the door.

Yuuri grabbed one of the boxes, and then smiled when he saw his own handwriting, both the address printed in neat English and some notes on the side in Japanese to remind him what was in the box.

“Do you want help unpacking?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri smiled gratefully.“No practice for you today?” he asked.

Phichit shrugged.“Technically it’s the off season,” he said.“But I’m planning on going over to the rink this afternoon.You’re welcome to come if you like.” Yuuri nodded.

“I’ll go get some scissors,” Phichit said brightly, and reappeared a moment later with a pair to cut the tape off the boxes.

They both made fairly quick work of the belongings that Yuuri had had shipped over; he was a light packer, and had clearly labelled everything.It didn’t take too long to get his clothes put away, and the two boxes with his personal effects were stored in his room until he could go through them in more detail.Yuuri made a point not to open the box with his private papers and belongings from Interpol, and just put it in his room behind some of his other things when Phichit wasn’t watching.

“Don’t forget about that last box,” Phichit said as they carriedthe last boxes to Yuuri’s room.

Yuuri smiled.“Right.”He went and got it from the table, and then set it down on his bed.He and Phichit stared at it for a moment, and then Yuuri sighed and tore off the tape before opening it.

“Holy shit,” Phichit exclaimed in surprise staring at the contents of the box.

Yuuri screeched in shock and embarrassment and closed it again, shoving it away from himself.“Minami, why?” he complained in Japanese.

“No, Yuki, let me see!” Phichit said, making grabby hands for the box.

“Noooo!” Yuuri whined, covering his face with his hands.“This is so embarrassing!”

Phichit glanced at him, and then pulled the box close again, opening it to reveal a stack of Yuuri’s Viktor Nikiforov posters and other assorted merchandise.“I did not pack this box,” Yuuri said desperately.“It was my friend Minami.He probably thinks he is being funny.”

“Dude, is this all yours?” Phichit chuckled, rifling through the posters.“You, uh… You have a lot here.”

Yuuri made a high-pitched noise of shame, sure he was bright red.“I’m so embarrassed,” he mumbled.

Phichit gave him a crooked smile.“Don’t be,” he said, and then his eyes widened.“Wait, you haven’t seen my room, have you?” Yuuri shook his head, nonplussed.

“Come on,” Phichit grinned, gesturing.Yuuri followed him across the hall and into his bedroom, a small bark of unintentional laughter escaping his lips as soon as Phichit turned on the light.Phichit’s room was plastered with posters, of skaters, of movie stars, of animals and bad jokes.

“Like it?” Phichit chuckled.He faced Yuuri.“You don’t have to be embarrassed about having posters and stuff,” he said.“I’m guilty of the same.I’ve done my fair share of fanboying over other skaters, that's just how it is.”

Yuuri smiled slowly.“Thank you,” he murmured.

Phichit nodded, walked to his desk, and pulled out a roll of tape before tossing it to Yuuri.“Now, do you want my help to hang up all those posters?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it wasn't clear, there's a time skip in this chapter. Viktor's point of view is happening about the same time as Chapter One, and Yuuri's point of view is back to the "present."
> 
> Again, sorry for the long wait, I'll do my best to be better about it next chapter. Expect chapter four on or around Friday December 8th ~~(and by on or around I probably mean a bit after)~~ Until then, thank you for reading, feel free to comment ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fabulous day, dear reader!


	4. The Start of a Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which troubling discoveries are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head I've been calling this chapter the time skip chapter, because that's basically all it is. For reference, chapters 1-3 take place around late March to early April, and this chapter is in August. Hopefully it's not too confusing. I may write more from the intervening months between chapters 3 and 4 later on, but if I do it won't be until after the New Year. Also, in case it's unclear, every time I mention Yuki in this chapter, I'm talking about Yuuri.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Again, Viktor isn't in the best state of mind for this chapter, and is not making the choices that are best for his personal health and wellbeing. This is described throughout the first section of this chapter. Details in the end notes about violence.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Something was wrong with Viktor Nikiforov.

It slowly dawned on Yuri Plisetsky, over the course of a few months following Worlds, that something had changed in the older man.Outwardly, he seemed perfectly normal.He smiled, he skated, he did interviews, he practiced.He had even followed through on his promise to choreograph a program for Yuri’s senior debut, although Yuri still wasn’t exactly sure why Viktor had thought On Love: Agape was a good choice for him.He might have had an easier time with On Love: Eros, but he grudgingly admitted that it was probably a good thing for Viktor to perform that himself, rather than give a program about sexual love to a fifteen year old.

It was in the moments when no one was watching, however, that Yuri began to suspect that something was going on with Viktor.Before long, smaller things began to stack up.

There was the way Viktor would push himself to the point of injury, until Yakov literally forced him off the ice.

There was the way Yuri observed that Viktor had five very specific smiles that he used over and over again, probably designed for five very specific purposes.

There was the fact that, despite his reputation as an international playboy, Yuri had never actually seen or heard of Viktor having a significant other.Of course, he probably had one night stands, but it slowly dawned on Yuri that, perhaps, Viktor was lonely.But how could that be possible?He was at the top of the world.He was quite literally the best figure skater in the business, for five years running, and it didn’t look like he was going to slow down any time soon.He was a champion, the world champion… and he stayed alone at the rink later than anyone else, even after Yakov left.

One night in late August, Yuri realized close to midnight that he had left his phone at the rink, and his grandfather had reluctantly allowed him to go and get it.Yuri had been prepared to pick the lock with his teeth, only to find it unlocked and Viktor still on the ice.

Yuri watched in the shadows, phone in hand from where he had grabbed it from under a bench, and watched as Viktor skated slow, almost mournful steps across the surface of the ice.Just watching him, it felt like there was a hollow pit opening in his chest, something deep and ugly and _painful_.As he watched, Viktor spun into an almost tired death drop, before coming out of it and setting himself up for a jump.Viktor skated around the perimeter of the rink, building up speed, and then launched himself into a quadruple flip.Even in the air, both Viktor and Yuri could tell that something was off, and sure enough Viktor flubbed the landing and tumbled to the ice.

Yuri just barely held himself back from running out there himself as Viktor lay prone on the ice, before rolling onto his hands and knees.“Fuck,” he thought he heard the older man whisper, and then Viktor pushed himself to his feet and skated toward the boards. Yuri retreated further into the shadows, and then silently left as Viktor grabbed a water bottle and took a despondent sip.

It took him a while to get to sleep that night.

The next morning, Yuri wandered into the rink a few minutes late to find Georgi and Yakov arguing, and Viktor nowhere to be found.

“I must, Yakov!” Georgi cried dramatically.“I must change my theme!I will never recover!”

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t!” Yakov yelled.“You’re being ridiculous!”

“True love isn’t ridiculous!” Georgi exclaimed, pressing his hands to his chest before choking on a sob.

Yuri sidled up to Mila, who was watching the scene with great amusement.“What’s his issue?” Yuri murmured, setting his skate bag on the ground by his feet.He should probably get ready for practice, but Yakov was otherwise distracted and besides, he still had two months until his first Grand Prix qualifier.His Salchow could wait for a moment, at least until he figured out why Georgi was acting more ridiculously distracting than normal.

Mila turned to him and raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly.“He’s heartbroken, kotenok, you wouldn’t understand,” she teased.

Yuri scowled furiously at her.“Tell me what happened, hag!” he demanded.

Mila shrugged.“Apparently he found out last night that Anya’s been cheating on him,” she explained.“It’s a pity, of course, they deserve each other.But his reaction makes for an interesting show, don’t you think?He wants to change his theme for the season to heartbreak.”

Yuri pressed his lips together.As much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t mind Georgi nearly as much as he said he did, and the older man looked devastated.“Is everyone in this rink insane?” he growled instead, huffing and crossing his arms.He glanced around.“Speaking of crazy, where’s Viktor?”

Mila looked out at the ice almost reflexively, and then said with a frown, “I’m not sure.I haven’t actually seen him this morning.Are you sure today isn’t his rest day?”

Yuri shook is head.“Pretty sure,” he confirmed.“He promised yesterday to help me with my step sequence if Yakov is too busy.”

“Hm,” Mila murmured.She shrugged.“I guess he’s a bit late then,” she said, and then grinned mischievously and wiggled her eyebrows.“Maybe he brought a friend home last night.”

Yuri stuck out his tongue in disgust, even as his stomach sank with unexplained dread.Something felt off.“Don’t be gross, hag,” he blustered, and then bent over to pick up his skate bag again.“Unlike the rest of you, _I_ actually want to make it to the GPF.I’m going to practice.”

A flare of irritation filled his chest when he heard Mila giggle as he stalked off, and seethed as he changed into his practice clothes and tied up his hair out of his face.He needed to get on the ice as soon as possible, he had ballet practice with Lilia later in the afternoon, he couldn’t be wasting time thinking about those other losers. He was slowly getting the hang of his free program, but he wasn’t completely sure Lilia wouldn’t kill him before he actually got to competition.He needed all the practice he could get, even if everyone else in the rink was going insane.

“Stupid Viktor,” Yuri snarled as he tied his skates and snapped on his skate guards.Yuri needed his help, why couldn't he be there?Was it really that hard?

The boy stuffed his bag in his locker and slammed the door shut before stomping back out to the ice, skate guards clacking against the floor.Stupid Viktor, stupid Georgi, stupid Mila, stupid Yakov.They were all dumb.He _hated_ them, right then, when they were getting in his way.

Yuri ignored Mila when she called out his name, doing a few quick stretches before setting his skate guards to the side and stepping out onto the ice.Usually being able to skate, being able to feel like he was flying as he jumped and spun and glided, was freeing. Today it felt like he was trapped, trapped by his expectations for himself, and the pressure of the upcoming competitions, and the eyes of the world on him, and the weight of Russia on his thin shoulders.

Yuri set himself up for a jump, gathering speed, and then bit back a scream of frustration and pain when he botched his quad Salchow, usually one of his more reliable jumps in the months since he had finally been permitted to learn quads.

“Yuri!” Yakov roared from across the rink, interrupting his argument with Georgi for a moment.“Absolutely no jumps!Stick to figures!”

Yuri pushed himself to his hands and knees, shaking slightly and breathing hard, and then stood to evaluate his condition.His knees hurt, he would have a nasty bruise on his hip, the palms of his hands were scraped, and there was an annoyingly large wet patch on his clothes from the ice, but he wasn’t permanently damaged.

Scowling, Yuri slid into a mindless pattern of compulsory figures until his breathing slowed slightly and the annoying prickling behind his eyes had mostly gone away.He tuned in again to Yakov and Georgi’s argument, which ended when Yakov spluttered something incoherent and Georgi flounced out onto the ice and started to stitch together steps in a sequence Yuri didn’t recognize.

“Plisetsky!” Yakov snapped, and Yuri intentionally waited for about a minute before skating to the boards.Yakov was waiting for him with a furious scowl on his face.“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped.“Did you even stretch?”

“Yes,” Yuri scowled, and crossed his arms.“I’m fine.Let me practice.”

Yakov glared at him.“I don’t know if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” he said threateningly.“But you had better drop this attitude, fast.I have enough dramatics from Georgi, I cannot tolerate the both of you.”

“Where’s Viktor?” Yuri blurted without meaning to, and then winced.Damn.It sounded like he was concerned, or whatever.And he wasn’t.He _wasn’t._

If possible, Yakov’s scowl deepened.“He’s taking the day off,” he said grudgingly.

Yuri clenched his fists.“But he said he’d help my with my step sequences today!” he said angrily.

Yakov gave him a long look from underneath his hat.“I _am_ actually your coach, you could ask me.Or get Georgi to help you if you really need it, or ask Lilia,” he replied.“Viktor is… under the weather today.”

Yuri huffed out a frustrated, impatient breath, and then skated off without another word.He practiced for a few hours, going over the complicated steps of his short program with Yakov, warming up before Yakov would let him do jumps, and because he had started his program run through a little late, by the time he was finished with his morning practice most of the other skaters were on their lunch break.Yuri skated to the boards and snapped on his skate guards before shouting to Yakov, “I’m going home for lunch, I’ll be back for ballet!”

Yakov just waved an irate hand, engrossed in a conversation with Lilia, probably something to do with choreography.Yuri quickly packed up his skates and left the rink, practically running to the small apartment he and his grandfather had rented a few minutes away from the rink.

After Yuri had started skating seriously his grandfather had moved with him to be closer to the rink, and Yuri was grateful that their small apartment was close enough that he could go home for lunch.

Yuri let himself in, dropped his bag by the door, and called softly, “Grandpa, I’m home, are you here?”

“In here, Yura,” Nikolai called, and Yuri wandered into the kitchen to find his grandfather making pirozhki at the stove.

“What are you doing?” Yuri asked, coming up behind his grandfather to watch what he was doing.

Nikolai gave him a small smile.“You’ve been working yourself so hard lately,” he said.“I want to make you a surprise.”Yuri smiled even as his stomach growled, and he grabbed one of the freshly finished pirozhki off a plate on the counter.He bit into it, wincing a little when he burned his tongue before smiling at the familiar taste.

“Thank you, Grandpa,” he said.“It tastes good.”

Nikolai grinned.“I’m glad.”

Yuri considered the already finished pirozhki, and the ones his grandfather was still cooking.“Hey, uh,” he said hesitantly.“Could I maybe bring some of these back to the rink?”

Nikolai smiled.“Of course,” he said. “There’s plenty to share.”

Yuri smiled slightly.“Thanks.”

Nikolai gave him a hug from the side, and then finished making the last of the pirozhki.They sat down and ate together in silence, and Yuri washed his dishes before saying, “I have to go back to practice, will I see you later?”

Nikolai nodded.“I should be home from work by the the time you get back.”

“I’ll be back a little late,” Yuri said.

Nikolai raised one eyebrow.“Any reason why?”

Yuri felt his cheeks flush.“Stupid Viktor is sick,” he said.“I thought I’d take him some of the pirozhki.”Nikolai smiled slightly, and Yuri rushed to explain, “It’s not because I feel bad for him or anything!He… I just… How is he supposed to help me with choreography and shit if he’s sick?Not that I need his help.Or whatever.”

Nikolai chuckled.“I’ll see you later, Yura,” he said.“Give my regards to Viktor.”

“Da,” Yuri muttered resentfully, leaving the apartment with his skating things over his shoulder and the paper bag of pirozhki clutched in his fist.

By the time Yuri was finished with practice for the day, he was exhausted, sore, irritable, and more than a bit annoyed with himself that he had committed to bringing stupid Viktor his stupid pirozhki.“I’m leaving!” he yelled across the ice towards where Yakov was working with Mila.

“Do you need someone to walk you home, kotenok?” Mila called teasingly.“I bet Georgi could bring you!”

“He left an hour ago, hag, leave me alone,” Yuri shouted back without much bite, and then left practice with the weight on his shoulders just a little bit lighter.Lilia worked him hard, yes, but he usually felt a little more prepared after her lessons.That didn't change the fact that he felt like his feet were going to fall off, and an extra half mile to Viktor's apartment and back did not sound at all appealing.

Yuri gritted his teeth, sighed heavily.He wasn't going to go home without stopping by Viktor's, he could already imagine the look his grandfather would give him if he did.It wasn't pretty.

Yuri trekked the quarter mile to Viktor's house in silence only broken by the occasional irritated huff, and tromped up the stairs before pounding on the door."Open the fuck up," he shouted after a long moment of hearing nothing.There was no answer, and after a moment Yuri tried the knob, only a little surprised to find that the door was already unlocked.

Sick uneasiness flooding his stomach, Yuri opened the door and crept in, the bag of pirozhki still clenched in his sweaty fingers.He softly closed the door behind him, and called out, "Viktor?"There was no answer again, and Yuri softly padded further into the apartment.It was about ten feet in that he caught a whiff of strong alcohol and a glimpse of silvery hair on the sofa in the living room.

"Oh, fuck no," Yuri muttered, and then shuffled across the hardwood floor until he could see that Viktor was lying asleep on the couch, an empty bottle of vodka lying tipped over on the floor by his side.Yuri scowled furiously.Viktor wasn't "under the weather", he had drunk the day away instead of going to practice.What a fucking dick, to think that Yuri had brought him _food_.

Yuri stalked over to the couch, stared down at the man in front of him, and then roughly shook his shoulder."Wake up, loser!" he said angrily.

Viktor stirred, and then blinked up at Yuri."Yuri?" he said groggily."What are you doing here?"

"Yakov said you were sick," Yuri snapped."I came to see if you were alright.Fuck you, jerk.I was fucking worried.Shit head."

Viktor slowly levered himself into sitting position. "You were worried?" he repeated. 

Yuri scowled."Fuck you," he said again, and then tossed the bag of pirozhki into Viktor's lap."Here."

Viktor blinked."What's this?"

“It’s pirozhki, you absolute idiot,” Yuri said in irritation.“Fucking eat it, or I’ll take it back.”

Viktor gave him a tiny, tired smile.“Thank you, Yura,” he said, and opened the bag before pulling out a pirozhki and taking a bite.“Hm,” Viktor grunted, swallowing.“Thank you, Yura.But I’d better heat these up.”

He made to stand, wobbling slightly, and Yuri pushed him back down on the couch with a scowl.“Don’t get up, stupid,” he snapped.“I’ll do it.”

Viktor eyed him for a moment, and then relaxed into the couch cushions again.“Thank you, Yura,” he said, and covered his eyes with a hand.

Yuri rolled his eyes, and then stalked into the other room and turned on the oven.“How long were you drinking, anyways?” he called.

“It’s fine, Yuri, you don’t need to know that,” Viktor started, but before he could even think about finishing his denial Yuri stomped back out, the heels of his boots thumping on the floor, and poked Viktor in the chest.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he said.“I’m fifteen.I can handle it.”

Viktor sighed heavily.“I was drinking last night after I got back from the rink,” he said in the quietest voice imaginable.“I was mostly hungover this morning, which was why I didn’t go in to practice.I had a bit more this afternoon, but I’m not drunk.”

Yuri crossed his arms tightly over his chest, frowning.“You need to get help,” he said bluntly.

Viktor cracked open one eye.“Thanks for the concern, Yura, but I’m fine, I-”

“You’re so dumb!” Yuri shouted.“Don’t you realize that if you’re hurting yourself, you’re hurting the rest of us, too?For fuck’s sake, I actually care about you, you’re like a dumb, stupid, dickish older brother.Fucking help yourself, or I’ll _make_ you.”

Viktor’s lips twitched slightly.“Yuri,” he said, but before he could finish his sentence the oven dinged.

“I’ll be back,” Yuri snapped, and slipped off his shoes before going back into the kitchen to heat up the pirozhki.He stuck them in the oven, set a timer on his phone, and was about to go back to the living room to yell at Viktor again when he noticed a piece of paper on the table, a piece of paper addressed to Viktor. There was a torn, unmarked envelope next to it, wrinkled like it had been clutched in someone's fist.

Yuri paused, and then glanced back out at the couch.Viktor had his eyes closed again, fingers tangled in his hair.Yuri took a deep breath, stepped out of sight from the living room, and then picked up the piece of paper.It was a letter, unsigned and typed in black ink on the crisp white printer paper.

“Dear Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuri whispered to himself, staring down at the neat, crisp Cyrillic.“It is clear from your activity you have not followed our previous demands.We have no choice now but to elaborate on our demands. You will cease with preparation for your competition at once, or we will ensure that you will be incapacitated permanently.Should you continue to refuse our demands, we will not hesitate to shatter your kneecaps, cut-” 

Yuri broke off, choking on an unexpected sob even as bile rose in his throat.He covered his mouth with his hand and read the rest of the letter, eyes growing wider with each horrifying line he read.When he was finished, he set the piece of paper down on the table and covered his face with his hands, trying to get some breath into his lungs.He realized he was trembling, and did his best to stop.

Yuri tangled his fingers in his hair, squeezing his eyes shut.“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I going to do,” he whispered, tugging slightly.The pain in his scalp focused him slightly, enough that he was able to pull his cell phone from his pocket and dial with trembling fingers.

“Da, what is it, Yura?” Yakov said instead of a greeting, sounding incredibly irritated.

“Yakov, help,” Yuri whispered.“Help me.”

“What is it, Yura?” Yakov said, every trace of irritation gone from his voice.

“I’m at Viktor’s,” Yuri whispered, craning his neck to make sure that Viktor was still seated at the couch.

“What is it?” Yakov asked seriously.“I’m on my way.Is Vitya alright?”

Yuri took a deep, gulping breath.“He- he’s hungover, I think, but I- I don’t- there’s a letter, Yakov, they’re going to- going to hurt him, they threatened-”

“Calm down, Yura,” Yakov said evenly, but Yuri thought he heard an undercurrent of panic in his coach's voice.“I’ll be there in five minutes.Stay where you are, don’t panic.”

Yuri laughed a little manically.“Yeah, sure, a little late there,” he said, just a bit too loudly.

“Yura, is everything alright?” Viktor called from the living room.“Yeah, everything is fine,” Yuri called back, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking as much as it sounded like in his own ears.Apparently he didn’t succeed, because after a long pause Viktor made a small groaning noise as he got up off the couch, and then shuffled towards the kitchen.

Yuri quickly recoiled, stepping away from the kitchen table where the horrible, awful letter still lay, but it was too late; as Viktor entered the kitchen, his eyes darted between the letter lying open on the table, the phone in Yuri’s hand, and the terrified expression on his face.

Something in Viktor’s countenance cracked, and he pinched the bridge of his noise before sighing slowly.“Don’t worry about it,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of the threatening letter.“It’s not your concern.”

“Viktor,” Yuri said in a raw whisper.“Is… is that why you were drinking?”

Viktor blinked slowly.“Don't worry about it,” he said again.“Let the adults handle it.”

“Sure, but adults I suppose you mean _you?”_ Yuri spat.“Does Yakov even _know_ about this?”

Viktor massaged his temples as if he was getting a headache.“Not this one,” he said slowly.

Yuri’s eyes widened at the implication.“You mean there’s been more than one?” he gasped.

Something almost like worry flickered across Viktor’s face for a moment before his expression went blank again.“Please just forget you saw anything,” he said in an almost pleasant voice.“I can handle it just fine.”

Yuri stepped forward so that they were face to face, desperate to get his point across.“Viktor, they- they threatened to break your kneecaps if you don’t stop competing, that’s- how long has this been going on?How long-”

Viktor moved past him and turned off the oven, pulling the pirozhki out with a hot pad.“Don’t worry about it,” he said yet again, the words hollow and meaningless as they hung in the air between the two. Yuri caught his tongue between his teeth to stop himself from yelling, screaming, crying.

There was a knock on the front door, and then Yakov let himself in through the still unlocked entrance, closing the door behind him.“Vitya?” he called.“Yura?”

“In the kitchen,” Yuri called hoarsely.

Yakov entered, quickly taking in the scene.“Vitya, what’s going on?” he asked.“You look a sight, Yura called me in a panic-”

Viktor sighed heavily, and then snatched the letter from the table and wordlessly handed it to his coach.Yakov read it slowly, lips moving silently as his eyes widened and his expression twisted with every word, and then he looked up at Viktor with dread in his eyes.“Why didn’t you call me immediately?” he murmured, his whisper almost scarier than his shout.

Irritation flickered in Viktor’s eyes. “It’s not a big deal,” he said dismissively.“I only found it an hour ago.  I would have mentioned it tomorrow.”

Yakov pressed his lips into a thin line.“I’m taking this with me,” he said.

Viktor’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and Yuri couldn’t help but take a step back.“I’m going to burn it,” Viktor said flatly.

Yakov eyed him.“I’m taking this to the authorities, Vitya, this has gone on far too long,” he said.“I’m not going to pretend like this doesn’t scare me.”

Viktor snorted.“You’re acting like you haven’t brought the last three to the police already.Fine, I don’t really care.As long as nothing gets out, of course.”

Yakov eyed him cautiously, and then turned to study Yuri.“Yura-” he started, but Yuri interrupted.

“What are you going to do?” he asked shrilly, and then turned on Viktor.“Why aren’t you worried about this?They threatened to hurt you, they threatened to kill you… what if they come for one of us next!”

Viktor exhaled slowly.“They’re not going to come for you, Yura, you’re perfectly safe,” he said calmly.

“Sure, coming from a man who thinks someone threatening to break his kneecaps is perfectly normal I totally believe that,” Yuri snapped.

Viktor flinched slightly, and for the first time Yuri saw his mask crack.“They’re not worried about you, not yet,” he said.“You’ll be fine, Yura.You have to believe that.”The desperation was clear in his voice, and Yuri thought he heard a hint of fear, of overwhelming terror.

Yuri wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to let his fear show.“How can _I_ believe that, if _you_ don’t?” he whispered.

***

Phichit was honestly a little surprised at how quickly he got used to sharing an apartment with Nakamura Yuki.

It wasn’t like Phichit hadn’t shared a space before- back in Thailand, he and his brother had slept in the same room for more than a decade.But when Celestino had told Phichit he was getting a roommate, Phichit had been a little wary.He had gotten used to living on his own after leaving the dorms at college, and he hadn’t been sure he wanted to give that up.

But Yuki was the definition of a perfect roommate.Neither of them was particularly difficult to begin with, and the Japanese skater was a much better cook than Phichit was and didn’t actually seem to mind it, so they split the chores in a way that made sense for the both of them.In addition, Yuki was just a generally nice person.Phichit was glad he hadn’t gotten a jerk to room with, not like he had in freshman year of college.That was a year he would rather just forget about.

Yuki had settled nicely into Phichit’s life, both at home and at the ice rink.They got along well and were fairly evenly matched in terms of skill on the ice, although Yuki’s step sequences were cleaner while Phichit was slightly better at jumps.Despite that, the worked well together, and Phichit suspected that Yuki was well on his way to finally nailing down his quad toe, rather than landing it about half the time like he did in practice.

Yuki was taking a few college classes as well, but apparently he already had some credits from school in Japan, so his schedule wasn’t quite as packed full as Phichit’s was.That was why Yuki was home when Phichit came back early from a cancelled class, sitting at the table and talking on the phone with someone.

Phichit let himself in quietly, leaving his things by the door, and crept towards the kitchen.He really needed a drink, but he could hear the low hum of Yuki’s voice talking to someone and didn’t want to disturb him.He stopped, however, just out of sight outside the kitchen door, when he realized that, whoever Yuki was talking to, they were speaking in English.And Yuki’s English sounded perfect, nothing like the accent he had spoken with since Phichit had met him.

Phichit’s eyes narrowed, and he stayed where he was as Yuki said, “Yes, I understand completely.Thank you for letting me know.”He paused.“Probably not, no.Why?”Phichit shrunk back into the shadows a little more as Yuki leaned forward with a frown as said into the phone, “That would be remarkably stupid… Alright.Yes.Please let me know.”He sighed inaudibly, nodded even though whoever was on the other end couldn’t see him, and then said, “I’ll be in touch with you and Minako.Thank you.”

Yuki hung up and glared down at his phone screen for a moment before muttering something in Japanese and slipping it back in his pocket.Phichit turned his attention to the table, and noticed for the first time that Yuki had several stacks of paper in folders in front of him, one open with a pen lying on top of it like he had been writing before his phone call.As Phichit watched, Yuki picked up the pen, tangled his fingers in his pair, and scribbled something on the piece of paper in front of him.

Phichit chewed on his lip, trying to figure out what to do.He could walk into the kitchen right now, confront Yuki, ask why he was pretending that his English was worse than it seemed to apparently be.Or he could pretend to come in again, loud enough to warn Yuki, and try to figure it out on his own.

Phichit clenched his jaw as he made his decision, and he silently retreated.There was definitely something up, but if he confronted Yuki now, he had a feeling that it wouldn’t go well for him. There was a certain tension in the Japanese man’s shoulders that didn’t bode well, and he looked irritated as he glared down at whatever he was working on.

Phichit crept backwards, and then loudly opened and closed the front door before calling, “Hey, Yuki, I’m home!”He made an exaggerated act of taking off his shoes and re-dropping his bag, and then walked into the kitchen.Yuki looked up with a smile, setting down his pen.He had straightened up his papers on the table somewhat, the folders closed and neatly stacked.

“Hey,” Phichit said, wandering over the the refrigerator.“What are you working on?”

Yuki wrinkled his nose.“An essay for lit,” he replied, and sure enough his thick accent had returned.

“Mm,” Phichit murmured sympathetically.He found the water pitcher he was looking for and poured himself a glass before turning and leaning against the counter.

Yuki smiled welcomingly.“What are you doing back?” he asked.“Are you not supposed to have class?”

Phichit ran his fingers through his hair.“It was cancelled,” he said with a shrug“I heard a rumor that the professor got arrested.”

Yuki’s eyes widened, and he chuckled.“Wow, alright,” he said, and then fiddled with his pen before asking, “When are you going into the rink?”

Phichit grunted, finishing off his water.“I’m not sure, I have some homework to catch up on.  How about you?”

“I have class in…” he blinked, glanced down at his watch.“Shit, now.”He stood, gathered his paper.“Sorry, Phichit, I have to go.I will be back in about an hour, is that alright?”

“Yeah, of course,” Phichit laughed.“I’ll wait for you to go to the rink.”

Yuki smiled.“Thanks.”He hefted his papers, and smiled a little wider.“I will see you later,” he said. “Have good luck with your work.”

Phichit nodded, putting his glass in the sink. “You too, have fun in class,” he replied.He stood at the sink, absently washing his glass far more than was needed, and listened to Yuki as he walked around the apartment for a few minutes before leaving.  Almost immediately, Phichit left his clean glass by the sink and grabbed his phone and sat on the couch, scrolling through Instagram.

When it had been almost exactly fifteen minutes since Yuki had left, Phichit stood and crept to the front door.He opened it and peered out at the empty hallway, and then gently shut it before padding across the apartment to the closed door of Yuki’s bedroom.Phichit stood and considered the door for a moment before crouching in front of the knob.

There was something going on, something Yuki wasn’t telling him.He _knew_ it. There was something fishy about this whole situation, and he was absolutely determined to figure out what was going on.

It wasn’t to say that Phichit didn’t trust Yuki.He did.He had been living with the other man for several months now, and they had gotten to know each other.Phichit knew Yuki wasn’t a bad person, not at heart.An anxious mess, sure, sometimes blunt and a little rude when he was tired, seemingly oblivious to the affections of half of Celestino’s skaters, absolutely.But he wasn’t evil, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Phichit took a deep breath.Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d start to believe it.

Phichit took another long, deep breath, and then reached out and tried the knob of Yuki’s door, eyes narrowing when he realized that it was locked.Granted, Phichit had never tried to get into the Japanese man’s room when he wasn’t home, but the fact that Yuki’s door was locked was just a little bit weird.

Phichit slumped against the wall, and then noticed a small scrap of paper sticking out from the bottom of the door.Phichit froze, and then slowly reached out to grab the paper, tugging it out into the air.He squinted at the paper in the dim light of the hallway before realizing that, whatever it said, Yuki had written in Japanese.

Phichit frowned, painstakingly figured out how to type in Japanese on his phone to copy the characters Yuki had written, and then copied and pasted it into Google Translate.He pressed his lips together, not sure if he was disappointed or pleased, when the translation turned out to be something about character development in whatever book Yuki was reading for his essay.

Phichit shut off his phone and then carefully considered Yuki’s closed bedroom door.It couldn’t be too wrong to snoop, right?Yuki wouldn’t know.Phichit would be in and out.Now to get the door open… 

Phichit steeled his resolve, and then Googled ‘how to pick a lock’.It took him about ten minutes to actually hunt down a bobby pin and a few minutes more to read over the Wikihow description of how to go about it.

Phichit fiddled with the lock for close to half an hour, trying to get it to unlock, before finally giving up.It was clear he didn’t have a future in espionage after his skating career was over.

Phichit leaned back and exhaled slowly.  He wasn’t actually going to be able to get into Yuki’s room without the key.That was frustrating.He leaned back, and considered the door thoughtfully.It was clear he wasn’t going to break in physically to see if there was anything off about Yuki’s living space.Maybe he could find something online.

Phichit jumped to his feet and went into his own bedroom, grabbing his laptop before falling onto the bed. He unlocked it, opened Google, and then paused. What was he doing?

Yuki was his friend, regardless of any suspicious circumstances.In the past, Phichit had looked around to see if he could find videos of Yuki’s past competitions, and had given up when he hadn’t been able to find anything.He had respected his friend’s boundaries, and had resisted the urge to poke around at Yuki’s online existence.He hadn’t looked up records, done any thorough searches of his roommate’s name, hadn’t hacked any databases to hunt Yuki down.Was he really going to break that respect because Yuki’s accent had decreased?

Phichit slowly closed his computer, and exhaled quietly.Casually snooping around someone’s room was one thing; it was rude, and a little invasive, but presumably fairly harmless.Trying to break into someone’s locked belongings, or hacking sites or sifting through old information to stalk them of the internet… that was wrong.Even Phichit knew that.

He leaned back his head and closed his eyes, sighing quietly.He would ask Yuki.It made him a little nervous, scared to risk his friendship with his roommate, but he would ask.That was better than invading his privacy.

As if on cue, Phichit heard the front for open, and then Yuki called out, “I am back, Phichit, how long do you need to get ready to go?”

“Give me five minutes,” Phichit called back, pushing himself off the bed and closing his door so he could change.When he got out he found Yuki sprawled out on the couch, fingers laced behind his head and his eyes closed.

“Hey, are you asleep?” Phichit teased with a grin, nudging his friend.

Yuki cracked one eye open.“Unfortunately not.”

“Boring class?” Phichit said sympathetically as Yuki sat up and combed his fingers through his hair.Yuki shrugged.

“I would rather be in practice,” he replied.

Phichit chuckled.“That’s fair.”The two gathered their skating gear and left, Yuki locking the apartment door behind them.It took Phichit about thee blocks to gather the courage to ask, “Hey, ah, Yuki, can I ask you something?”

Yuki glanced sideways at him.“I suppose,” he replied, looking a little nervous.

Phichit took a deep breath, heartbeat strong in his throat, and then blurted, “Hey, um, how’s your English these days?”

Yuki gave him a bit of a confused look, chewing on his lip.“It is alright,” he said slowly, his accent as strong as ever.

“I, um…” Phichit scrambled for an explanation, and then lied, “Sometimes I overhear you talking to yourself in English, and it doesn’t always sound like you have much of a Japanese accent.”

Yuki made a surprised sound in the back of his throat, and when Phichit glanced at him he was a little surprised to find that his friend was blushing.“I may, ah… _exaggerate_ my accent sometimes,” Yuki finally murmured, sounding a little embarrassed.

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“Oh?”

Yuki cleared his throat.“I, um… yeah,” he said.“Sometimes it’s, um, sometimes it’s easier to pretend like I cannot understand someone than to talk to them.”Phichit snorted with laughter without meaning to.

“So you pretend you can’t speak English so you don’t have to socialize?” he giggled.

Yuki looked indignant.“I do not pretend I cannot speak English, I just pretend I am bad at it,” he said, and then a smile snuck through.

“So what do you really sound like?” Phichit asked.

Yuki smiled.“I can speak about like this,” he answered.Sure enough, his accent was significantly lighter, but it was by no means the perfect English Phichit had heard him speaking on the phone.

Instead of saying anything Phichit just smiled and said teasingly, “Should I be insulted that you kept up your accent around me, too?”Yuki blushed again.“I’m sorry,” he apologized.“I wasn’t exactly sure how to broach the issue once we got to be friends.”

Phichit just grinned, and Yuki relaxed slightly at the action.“What do you have to do before Skate America?” he asked, and Phichit let him change the subject, walking with a smile even as suspicion brewed in his mind.

Yuki _seemed_ to have a reasonable explanation for his change in accent.He didn’t _seem_ like he was lying, his embarrassment had seemed authentic.But there was still something Phichit's friend wasn't telling him, there was still something going on under the surface.

He wouldn't undermine his own morals, Phichit decided as they walked together towards the ice rink, but he _would_ figure out exactly what was going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence: Between "Dear Mr. Nikiforov" and "Da, what is it?" is a description of what might happen to Viktor should he continue to compete. I'm not sure if this is going to be an issue, but in the future I will have details about violence if needed in the end notes to avoid spoilers.
> 
> Other than that, I have nothing else to say! I should be ready with the next chapter on or around Friday, December 15. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a wonderful day, dear reader!


	5. The First Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which trouble befalls the Russians, and Yuuri gets a late night phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This happened. Also, just a note if anyone's interested, I'm using the 2015-2016 skating season as a general time frame and outline, but there are some details that will be changed.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Viktor isn't in the best state of mind during this chapter, and isn't making the best choices for his personal health or wellbeing. Also, trigger warning for homophobia and homophobic slurs, as well as implied past homophobia. Notes about trigger warnings for violence in the end notes to avoid spoilers.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor had always hated to admit when he was scared.

He still did, even as an adult.But as much as it pained him to say, he was beginning to get a bit frightened.Not for himself, not exactly.It wasn’t that Viktor necessarily wanted to die, he just wasn’t too concerned about what could happen to him.It was what Yuri had said after finding the threatening letter that had him worried.What if these people _did_ go after his rink mates?Viktor wasn’t sure what he’d do if someone got hurt because of him.He would feel _terrible._

It had been two months since Yuri had found the threatening letter, two months since he had called Yakov, two months since the sick, creeping fear in Viktor’s stomach had become a permanent sensation.In that time he had thrown himself into practice even more than before, coming early to the rink and staying long after everyone left, even if he was just skating compulsory figures.

Viktor hated himself a bit for this habit, this addiction to the ice, the actions that just seemed to trap him further into his passionless, fading career, but the only way he could sleep at night nowadays without the whispers of doubt and hate was to drink himself to sleep, or tire himself out so much that he basically collapsed and was dead to the world until he had to drag himself up and do it all again.

Viktor knew it wasn’t healthy.He _knew_ that.He wasn’t stupid, he knew he was going to burn himself out, or get injured, or slip further into what very well could be depression, but he couldn’t make himself stop.Being on the ice was one of the few things that made him _feel_ anymore, and sometimes even then he had to fake his emotions in order to complete his routine.

Viktor was tired.He was tired, a bone deep exhaustion that felt like it was beginning to pervade every aspect of his life, a sort of heavy weariness that made it hard to get up most days, and even harder to go to bed, knowing that he could very well lie awake for hours trying to fight off an emptiness he didn’t understand.So Viktor stayed on the ice, kept skating late into the night.

It was nearly ten o’clock one October evening just a few days before the beginning of the Grand Prix series, when Yakov found Viktor still practicing step sequences in the dimmer nighttime lights of the rink.

“Vitya,” Yakov called from the entrance to the ice.

Viktor glanced up in surprise, pausing in his run through of the hardest step sequence from his free program.“Yakov?” Viktor said, skating towards him.“I thought you had gone home.”Yakov and Georgi had stayed after practice to talk about last minute changes to his choreography, but he hadn’t thought that it would take so long.

Yakov squinted at him.“Gosha had a lot to say,” he said, and then frowned.“Off the ice, Vitya.”

“Oh, it’s fine, Yakov, I’ll lock up when I’m finished,” Viktor said airily before casually sliding through several steps.He frowned when the last few didn’t land as cleanly as he would have liked.His first Grand Prix cup, in France, was in less than a month.He should be polishing his programs now, not trying to get things right.Maybe he would have to downgrade the steps… “I still have work to do,” Viktor said dismissively when he turned to see Yakov still standing at the entrance to the rink, Georgi now lingering behind him.

“Viktor,” Yakov said angrily, but there was an edge of something akin to concern in his voice.“Off the ice.Now.”

Viktor frowned.“It’s fine, I-”

“I have the power to ban you from this rink for a week, Viktor,” Yakov snapped.“Off.Now.”

“You’re bluffing,” Viktor grumbled, but slid to the edge of the ice and fumbled to snap his skate guards over his blades.“You wouldn’t ban me for a week less than a month until my first competition.”

Yakov didn’t say anything, but in the shadows of his face underneath his hat Viktor knew he was frowning.“We’ll wait, and walk you home,” Yakov said, glancing at Georgi, who quickly nodded.“Go and change."

Viktor sighed silently, but headed to the locker room.To his surprise, Georgi followed, leaving Yakov behind.

“So what were you two talking about, that took you so long?” Viktor asked as he opened his locker and took out a change of clothes.

Georgi sighed, leaning against the wall and studying the ceiling as Viktor changed.“Choreography, mostly,” the other man answered.“But also… also you.”

Viktor paused halfway through changing his pants.“Me?”

“Mmhm,” Georgi hummed.He breathed a quiet sigh, and then said, “He’s worried about you, you know.Yakov, I mean.He’s worried about you.I think everyone is, a little.Even little Yura.” 

Viktor sighed quietly, shoving his sweaty bangs out of his eyes.“I’m fine,” he said.

Georgi’s frown deepened.“I don’t think you are,” he said gravely.“I mean, I know I’m kind of a mess, and not always the most perceptive about other people, but… come on, Vitya.You’re off, something’s off about you, and then with these threats on top of everything…”

Georgi trailed off when Viktor winced.Georgi had been there, along with Yakov and Ivan, one of the hockey players they were actually friends with, when the first threatening letter had been found slid underneath the door of his apartment. Viktor had had a bit too much to drink at a bar with his adult rink mates after they invited him out, and had walked him home.Georgi had called Yakov as soon as they found the letter and read it, so Georgi knew all about the supposed risks he was taking.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Viktor mumbled.

Georgi chewed on his lip, absently toying with his coif.“You know Yura asked me about it?” he said.“He asked me if I knew.I couldn’t lie.”

“So that’s where you got that bruise,” Viktor said with a tiny smile.Georgi rubbed his shoulder, where he had had an enormous bruise for days a few months ago, and nodded.“Vitya, how many have there been?” he asked.“How many letters after the one Ivan and I found?” Viktor swallowed hard, stuffing his sweaty clothes into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder and locking his locker.

“Vitya?” Georgi prompted when Viktor didn’t answer.

“Five,” Viktor whispered, staring blankly at the closed door of his locker.“There have been five.”

“And are they all-” Georgi started, but Viktor cut him off.

“They’re all as specific as the first, yes,” he said.“The last one described in great detail how they would cut my throat around 1:15 on a Thursday when I go out to get lunch at that little place down the street.”

Georgi swallowed hard, avoiding Viktor’s eyes.“And they’re all…”

“Violent?” Viktor guessed with a humorless smile.“Yes.I feel bad about Yura, actually. He read the worst of them.”

Georgi made a small, pitying sound in the back of his throat.“Do you think they’ll follow through?” he asked.“Do you think whoever’s threatening you will go through with what they’re saying?”

Viktor just shrugged, toying with the strap of his skate bag as he stared at the floor.“I don’t know,” he murmured.“I haven’t withdrawn from competition yet, so I suppose we’ll find out.”

“Aren’t you scared?” Georgi blurted, and when Viktor looked up he found his rink mate staring at him with wide, terrified eyes.

Viktor set his jaw.“I’m fine.”

Georgi just stared at him for a moment, and then shook his head.“Let’s go,” he mumbled, and Viktor followed him out of the locker room to where Yakov was still waiting.

“It’s about time,” the coach grumbled, adjusting his hat so Viktor could see his eyes.“Did you decide to have a party in there?”

“We were just talking,” Georgi mumbled, bending over to pick up his bag from Yakov’s feet.

Yakov snorted.“You don’t pay me to babysit you while you’re gossiping,” he grumbled, but Viktor noticed that the tension in his coach’s frame lessened slightly.The three left the rink, Yakov locking the door behind them, and headed down the street.

“I’ll walk you home,” Georgi said suddenly, glancing sideways at Viktor.

Viktor huffed a small, bitter laugh.“What, are you scared now?” he said.

Georgi scowled.“Yes I am, Viktor, and you should be too.Those letters-” 

“Hush,” Yakov said suddenly, putting an arm in front of Georgi’s chest to stop him.Viktor paused as well, and looked down the street.It was late, yes, but they were in a city, so the streets weren’t completely abandoned.A bit down the block on the other side of the street, a group of party goers stood outside a bar, and on their side of the street a couple kissed under a lamp post and a drunkard clutching what looked like a bottle of alcohol, maybe vodka, staggered down the sidewalk in their direction.

Eyes narrowed, Yakov guided Viktor and Georgi out of the way of the man, but to their surprise instead of stumbling past them he stopped and squinted at Viktor.“You’re the ice skater,” he slurred.“Viktor Nikiforov. The faggot.”

Viktor flinched without meaning to.

“Go along, get away from us,” Yakov said sternly, scowling.

The drunk sneered at him.“Ooh, I’m scared,” he mocked.“Two fags and an old man, how terrifying.” He reached out with surprising agility for a drunk man and shoved Viktor in the chest.Viktor stumbled back, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Georgi snarled, stepping forward.

Viktor reached out and grabbed his friend’s shoulder, pulling him back.“Let it go, Gosha,” he muttered, even as sickening anger ate at his insides.“It’s not worth it.”

“Go ahead, pansy,” the man said with a bark of laughter.“Run away.”

Viktor took a deep, shuddering breath, and tugged Georgi away, in the direction they had been walking.“Yakov,” he said very quietly. Yakov gave the drunk man a heavy glare, and then turned his back to join Viktor and Georgi.

“Don’t turn your backs on me, filthy shits,” the man slurred.

Viktor stiffened, but didn’t turn.He heard stumbling footsteps behind him, and then Yakov shouted, “Vitya!” and Viktor was shoved to the side.He heard the tinkle of glass shattering, and then something heavy thumped to the ground.

Viktor whirled around, Georgi at his heels.The drunk man was standing over Yakov, who lay on the ground with the broken bottle lying by his head.

“Fuck, missed,” the man mumbled, nudging Yakov with his foot.Yakov didn’t stir.

Bile rose in Viktor’s throat, and he started to tremble, although he couldn’t tell if it was with fear or rage.This man, this _terrible_ man, had tried to hit Viktor, or attack him, and Yakov had pushed him out of the way.And now he was hurt.

Georgi stepped forward threateningly, terrible fury on his face.Before the drunk man could react, Georgi swung a clumsy fist and punched him in the face, and pushed him away.“Get the fuck away from us!” he shouted.“I’ll fucking kill you!”

Viktor wrapped his arms around Georgi to stop him from chasing as the drunk man scuttled away, getting to his feet and cupping his broken nose in one hand."Gosha, Gosha," Viktor said."Wait, please don't chase him.We... we need to help Yakov."

George swallowed hard, but then they both turned to look at their fallen coach on the ground."Oh god, oh shit," Georgi muttered.

Viktor knelt down next to Yakov and fumbled for his pulse, eventually finding the faint heartbeat."Call an ambulance or something," he told Georgi.

"I... I don't have my phone," Georgi admitted, sounding like he was on the edge of a breakdown."Yakov took it away after the third time I tried to call Anya."

Viktor gave him an annoyed look, but dug out his own phone and handed it to Georgi."Go on, call," he said, and then turned his attention back to Yakov.In truth, he had absolutely no idea what to do.He was pretty sure they shouldn't move Yakov until the paramedics arrived, but he could only barely stifle the instinct to try to shake his coach awake.And then he noticed the blood, a small pool underneath Yakov's head. 

“Oh, shit, please,” Viktor whispered, his breathing growing short.As Georgi spoke on the phone to the paramedics, Viktor very gently touched the side of Yakov’s head.His fingertips came away red, and there was a small sting in his pointer finger where he had nicked it on a shard of glass.

“They’ll be here in a few minutes,” Georgi said as he got off the phone, and then dropped to his knees on the other side of Yakov, skate bag abandoned.“Is he… is he…” he started to say, deathly pale.

“Still alive,” Viktor whispered, leaning over his coach.A small puff of air escaped Yakov’s lips, and then the older man stirred slightly with a low groan.

“Don’t move,” Viktor said urgently, putting his hands on Yakov’s shoulders as the coach’s eyes fluttered open.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yakov whispered harshly.“I’m… I’m fine.Just a little bump.”

"You're hurt," Georgi said."When we're hurt, you make us get off the ice immediately.Stay where you are, please don't injure yourself further.”

Yakov frowned slightly, but it was a testament to how much pain he must have been in that he didn’t try to argue.“I called an ambulance,” Georgi told him.

“Goddammit,” Yakov muttered.“Are either of you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” Viktor said quickly.

“As am I,” Georgi added quickly, but Viktor noticed that he was absently massaging his right hand.

“How long until the ambulance comes?” Yakov asked, even as Viktor heard the sound of an oncoming siren in the distance.

“Just stay where you are,” Georgi said.Yakov chuckled weakly."I'm not going anywhere, I promise."Just as he finished speaking, the ambulance pulled up and several paramedics jumped out.

"Please move aside, sir," one of them said, and Viktor stumbled back as they carefully strapped Yakov to a gurney.

"Go with him," Georgi said, giving Viktor a small shove on the shoulder.Viktor hesitated.

"Sir, if you're coming..." the paramedic said.

"I'll catch up," Georgi promised, and gave Viktor another gentle push that moved him into walking towards the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital passed in a blur as Viktor did his best to stay out of the way as the paramedics did their best to care for Yakov.When they reached the hospital Yakov was rushed into a ward and Viktor found himself sitting in a corner of the relatively empty waiting room, staring down at his hands as his stomach churned with loathing and helplessness and anger.This was his fault.This was all his fault.If he hadn't stayed so late at the rink, if Yakov and Georgi hadn't felt obligated to walk him back to his apartment, no one would have gotten hurt.Viktor took a deep, shuddering breath, and dug the heel of one hand into his forehead.He was getting a headache, and felt like he might throw up.Which was stupid. _He_ wasn't the one in the hospital.

" Viktor Nikiforov?"Viktor jumped, startled, and then looked up at the unfamiliar man who had sat down next to him.

"...Yes?" Viktor said cautiously, and then he noticed Georgi standing off to the side a bit, hovering awkwardly.

"My name is Sasha Petrovich," the man said."I'm with the police."

Viktor eyed him suspiciously."Can I see your credentials?" he asked after a moment.The man sitting next to him didn't look at all like a police officer; he was dressed casually in a sweater and jeans, with dark circles under his eyes and an obvious five o’clock shadow, not in uniform like Viktor would image a cop would be.

Sasha chuckled."Of course," he said, and dug his wallet out of his pocket before quickly flashing a badge that claimed he was Officer Sasha Petrovich of the St. Petersburg Police.

"I'm a plainclothes officer," Sasha explained, taking his wallet back when Viktor offered it to him."One of the people assigned to keep an eye on you until the police figure out who's threatening you.I saw what happened, and I gave Mr. Popovich a ride to the hospital."

"One of the people assigned to keep an eye on me?" Viktor repeated.

Sasha hesitated."Your coach didn't tell you?" he said hesitantly.Viktor narrowed his eyes, shrugging.

Sasha exhaled slowly, rubbing his jaw."Then I suppose I probably wasn't supposed to mention it.I thought you knew."

Viktor frowned. "No, I'm glad you did," he said."I like to know when I'm being followed."

Sasha frowned, but didn't comment."I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened.I already heard what Georgi had to say, but I'd like your perspective as well.Can you tell me what happened before Mr. Feltsman was attacked?"

Viktor nodded slowly, and Sasha pulled a notebook out of his pocket to take notes."We had left the ice rink a little late, which you probably know if you've been following me," he said."Yakov noticed a drunk man walking down the street towards us, and we moved out of the way so there wouldn't be any unnecessary conflict.When he was walking past, he seemed to recognize me, called us names, and hit Yakov with a bottle when we turned to walk away."

Sasha pressed his lips together. "Can you remember any of the names he called you?"

Viktor took a deep breath."Homophobic slurs," he said softly.He had no idea how the police officer would react, but luckily Sasha just hummed sympathetically and wrote what Viktor had said down.

"That's all the questions I have at the moment, but we'll probably contact you later," he said."Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Nikiforov."

"Do you think what happened is connected to the letters I've been getting?" Viktor blurted.

Sasha sighed, rubbing at his jaw."So far it sounds like it's an unrelated incident," he said."But we can't be sure quite yet." He got to his feet with a tired smile."Thank you for your time, Mr. Nikiforov," he said, and then walked away with his shoulders slumped.

Georgi took his vacated seat, and then murmured, "Are you alright?" 

Viktor raised an eyebrow."I should be asking you that," he returned."How's your hand?"

Georgi smiled sheepishly, carefully massaging his fingers."It's alright," he said.

Viktor frowned."You should probably get it checked out by a doctor regardless."

Georgi nodded absently."Are you alright?" he said again, nudging Viktor."Don't deflect."

Viktor exhaled slowly, staring down at his hands."This is my fault," he mumbled after a long moment.

Georgi frowned, looking upset."What, for being gay?" he said, sounding angry."Vitya, that's the most idiotic thing I've ever heard you say, and I've known you for almost ten years now."

Viktor chuckled weakly in spite of himself."No, my fault for staying so late," he said.

Georgi shrugged."Yakov and I had stayed late talking anyway," he said.Viktor bit his lip.Georgi shrugged."And honestly, plenty of people think I'm gay as well, so we probably still would have been verbally abused.That guy wasn't a good person, Vitya, I hope you're not going to take his words to heart."

Viktor laughed a little bitterly."Please," he said."It's nothing I haven't heard before.I'm more upset that he hurt you and Yakov."

"Did the paramedics say anything to you?" Georgi asked.

Viktor shook his head."Not much more than a promise to send someone out once they know more," he said.Georgi made a sound of murmured agreement, and then they fell silent.

Viktor lost track of how long they sat there before a doctor in a white coat approached them."Mr. Nikiforov and Mr. Popovich?" she asked.

Viktor jumped to his feet, Georgi close behind."Is Yakov alright?" Viktor asked urgently.

The doctor smiled slightly."He's going to be just fine," she promised. "He needed four stitches and has a mild concussion, but you acted quickly enough that he shouldn't sustain any lasting injuries.He's lucky, especially for a man of his age.We're going to keep him in for observation for the time being, and I wouldn't advise any rigorous activity for a while, but he's awake if you want to see him."

"Yes, please," Viktor said quickly, and Georgi nodded in agreement. 

"Come with me, then," the doctor smiled, and led them down the hall of the hospital.They found Yakov settled in a hospital bed with a frown on his face, staring up at the ceiling.Viktor's eyes were immediately drawn to the bandage wrapped around his head.

"Yakov!" he exclaimed.

Yakov glanced up."Other than the needles they stuck in me to stitch me up, I'm just fine," he grumbled."Now they just need to let me go."

The doctor sighed quietly, as if this was an argument she has already had."I'm sorry, Mr. Feltsman, but we need to keep you under observation in order to ensure that there are no other effects of your injuries." Yakov frowned, but didn't argue further.The doctor smiled sympathetically, and then said, "I'll leave you three to talk.Just call a nurse if you need anything, and please do try not to get too agitated."

Without even looking Viktor could tell Yakov was scowling, so he smiled pleasantly at the doctor and said, "Thank you very much."She smiled back, and then left, half closing the door behind her.

Viktor and Georgi both turned their attention to their injured coach, and Georgi asked, "How are you feeling, Yakov?"

Yakov grumbled, but said, "I'll be alright.Don't worry about me."

"I'm so sorry," Viktor said immediately.

Yakov gave him an odd look."What are you apologizing for?" he asked."What happened wasn't your fault."

"If I hadn't left the rink so late-"Viktor started.

Yakov held up a hand."Don't argue with me, I'm your coach," he snapped.Viktor smiled weakly in spite of himself.

Yakov sobered, and sighed quietly."Actually, Vitya, I need a favor," he said.

"Anything," Viktor replied immediately.

Yakov pursed his lips, and then said, "I need someone to go to Skate America with Yura.They're not letting me out of the hospital until the day we would have to leave, and even then I've been strongly advised not to travel across the world to a high stress competition with a concussion."

Viktor swallowed."And you want me to go?" he guessed weakly. Yakov nodded.

"I... I could go," Georgi said hesitantly, glancing sideways at Viktor."I mean... if Vitya doesn't want to."

Yakov shook his head."With your last minute choreography changes, Vitya's programs are much more polished than yours are, and his first competition is after yours," he said."And to be honest, Yura gets along better with Vitya than he does you, Gosha, he would be more likely to listen to Vitya."

Georgi nodded slowly, and Yakov turned his attention back to Viktor.Viktor rubbed the back of his neck, conflicted.He _did_ want to help Yakov- he _did_.But..."But I don't know how to coach," Viktor protested weakly.

Yakov's lips twitched."I've seen you with some of my younger skaters," he said.  "You seem just fine then."  

Viktor considered that.It was true, that he did sometimes help the younger skaters at the rink practice jumps or drill steps, but that didn’t exactly make him a coach.Then again, Yuri wasn't exactly high maintenance, as a skater at least.It wasn't like he was a helpless little kid just stepping on the ice.He could do quads, he knew and cared enough not to injure himself, and Viktor was familiar enough with his practice regime to probably be able to help him."Alright," Viktor said with a nod."I'll see what I can do.”

Yakov gave him a small smile.“Thank you, Vitya,” he said.“I’ll email you the information you’ll need later.”

Viktor nodded.“That sounds alright,” he said.

Yakov sighed heavily.“I suppose I’ll have to break the news to Yura,” he grumbled.“Great.”

Viktor chuckled.“I can tell him if you like.”

Yakov nodded eagerly, and then winced.“Yes, do that.”

“How many stitches did they give you?” Georgi asked with concern.

Yakov scowled.“Four,” he said.“More than I needed, if you ask me.”

“I guess it’s good that you’re not a doctor, then,” Viktor replied with a tiny smile. Yakov glared at him, but Viktor could tell there was no malice behind his expression.Georgi chuckled.

“I’m just glad you’re going to be alright,” Viktor murmured, swallowing hard, and Georgi nodded in vehement agreement.He couldn’t imagine what it would be like if something seriously bad happened to Yakov.He could imagine what he would do.

Yakov raised an eyebrow.“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Vitya,” he said.

Viktor glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was almost eleven thirty.He hadn’t realized that they had waited in the hospital waiting room that long.“We should probably let you sleep,” he murmured.

Yakov sighed heavily.“Yes, you two should get home so you’re rested before practice tomorrow.”He looked up at Viktor.“And if you have any trouble with Yura, let me know.”

Viktor nodded.“I don’t think we’ll have any trouble,” he said, and then promised, “I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

***

Yuuri took a deep breath before launching himself into a quad toe loop, but he could tell in the air that he wasn't going to make the landing.He did his best to fall correctly, keeping his head far away from the ice, but in the process he fell and almost assuredly bruised his hip and shoulder.

"That's enough, Yuki," Celestino called from the side of the rink, hands on his hips."I don't want you to permanently injure yourself."

Yuuri pushed himself to his feet with a sigh, but he was forced to agree.He was only landing his quad toe about three quarters of the time in practice, which wasn't horrible, but the one quarter he didn't land correctly hurt more than enough to make up for it.Besides, Yuuri knew what he was like in competition.Granted, he had gotten better at managing his anxiety since his time in Juniors, but he was sure his jumps wouldn't improve at all under the pressure of competition.

Yuuri pushed his hair out of his face and skated to the boards, where Phichit was waiting.His practice had ended about an hour earlier, and he had gone out to get food and check out some books he needed from the nearby library for one of his classes before coming back to walk with Yuuri back to their apartment.

"You didn't look too bad," Phichit said with a small smile, straightening as Yuuri approached.

Yuuri sighed."I don't know," he said."I need to be able to land that quad toe more consistently if I'm going to make it to the Grand Prix Finals."

"Maybe your technical score could use some work," Phichit admitted, handing Yuuri his skate guards."But your performance score would more than make up for it, I think.The way you skate is really unique, Yuki, and fascinating to watch.You're going to bring something new to the finals."

Yuuri smiled slightly, and stepped off the ice."I'm just glad I have a bit more time to work on my routines before my first qualifying cup," he said.He took a deep breath, awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, and then said, "I'm probably not going to be able to come with you to Skate America to cheer you on in person."

Phichit smiled slightly."I understand," he said easily, without any hint of deceit in his voice."I understand completely, and I don't blame you.You should put your own performance first."

"I still feel bad," Yuuri mumbled.He had seriously considered going with Phichit to Skate America to cheer his friend on.The competition was only one state away, in Wisconsin, and it wouldn't be more than a five day excursion.But if he was going to be good enough at his qualifiers to make the finals, he couldn't afford the practice time it would take to go on a trip with Phichit and Celestino.

"Oh, don't," Phichit said amiably, clapping Yuuri in the back as the two walked to the locker room."You'll watch the stream, though, right?" he added hopefully.

Yuuri grinned shyly."Of course!" he exclaimed, and then his smile changed to resemble a smirk as he unlocked his locker and sat down on a bench to change his shoes."Maybe I'll even set up a viewing party, so everyone can see you win."

Phichit chuckled."We'll see," he said."It's going to be some tough competition.Michele Crispino, Seung-gil Lee, and Leo de la Iglesias are all going to be there.I'm not convinced I could beat them all."

Yuuri grinned, unlacing his skates and pulling on his sneakers."If anyone can do it, it would be you," he said.

Phichit beamed at him."Aw, thanks!" he exclaimed.

"What do you want to do for dinner?" Yuuri asked, picking up his bag and locking his locker.

Phichit yawned, scratching at his cheek."I don't really care," he said."I'm not cooking.Do you want to, or do you want to order in?"

"Definitely order in," Yuuri said through a yawn. "I'm exhausted."

Phichit laughed."At least you don't have to get up early for a flight tomorrow," he teased.Yuuri smiled slightly as they left the rink together after saying goodbye to Celestino.

"I suppose that's fair," Yuuri said.The two walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Phichit said suddenly, "Hey, um. Yuki."

"Mmhm?" Yuuri murmured, glancing sideways at his friend.

Phichit was quiet for several long moments, and then said quickly, "Well, ah, we both want to get to the finals, right?"

"That's the goal, as far as I know," Yuuri replied, a little bemused.

Phichit exhaled slowly."I just... I don't want competition to ruin our friendship.I've really enjoyed getting to know you, I don't want that relationship to sour."

Yuuri smiled at his friend."I'm not too worried about it, to be honest," he said."I still want to be friends."

Phichit smiled back, looking relieved."I'm glad," he said.

"Besides," Yuuri said, bumping his friend's shoulder with his own."We don't really stand a chance of winning even if we make it to the finals, not with people like Viktor Nikiforov and Christophe Giacometti in the running."

Phichit laughed."That's a fair point," he admitted, and then his smile turned sly."I couldn't help but notice while looking at the competition assignments that you're in both the same qualifiers as Viktor.Are you gonna get his autograph?"

Yuuri smiled shyly."Maybe, if I could ever get the courage to talk to him," he said."So, maybe in a million years or so."In truth, he wasn't sure he wanted Viktor to know who he was.It would be easier to keep an eye out for anything suspicious if Viktor didn't even know he was there.

"Come on," Phichit laughed."You can bring one of your posters and get him to sign it."

Yuuri covered his face, sure he was bright red."Oh my god, no!" he said in horror."Absolutely not!"

Phichit laughed."It would be a prime opportunity, Yuki," he said."A once in a lifetime chance!"

"Oh, stop laughing, you," Yuuri said.When Phichit kept giggling, Yuuri added, "Alright, then you bring your poster of Christophe Giacometti to get signed."

"Sure," Phichit said indulgently, still grinning."If we get to the finals, I'll get Christophe Giacometti's autograph, so long as you get Viktor Nikiforov's."They turned onto the block where their apartment building was located, and Phichit said, "I'm in the mood to break the diet plan tonight.You in?"

Yuuri hesitated."I don't know," he said.

"Come on," Phichit wheedled, holding the door of the apartment building open for Yuuri."It's one night.We can order crappy fake Asian takeout and watch a movie.I want to spend time with my roomie before I go off on my epic adventure to Wisconsin.”

Yuuri chuckled.“You don’t have to guilt me into it, Phichit,” he said.“Surprisingly, I like spending time with you.”

Phichit laughed.“Oh, hush,” he said.

Yuuri just laughed, bumping his friend with his shoulder."I'll even let you pick the movie, oh grand adventurer," he teased.

Phichit lip up."Awesome!" he exclaimed."This is going to be the best roommates night ever!"

***

Yuuri was woken up at an obscenely early hour that night by an insistent buzzing by his left ear.After trying to ignore the sound for a minute in the hopes that it would go away, but after a few minutes he fumbled for his phone on the bedside table behind him and answered in mumbled Japanese without looking at the caller ID.

“Is this Katsuki?” the voice on the other end asked, and Yuuri paused for a long moment before looking at both the caller ID and the time.He blinked.Why in the  _world_ was Yakov Feltsman calling him at just past two in the morning?

“Yes, it’s me,” he said in English as he sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake.From Yuuri’s limited interactions with Yakov he knew the Russian man could be blunt and somewhat abrasive, but he was intelligent to know how time zones worked.He wouldn’t be calling unless there was an emergency.“What’s the matter?” Yuuri asked in a low voice, leaning back against the wall and crossing his legs underneath him.

“Is it at all possible for you to be at Skate America?” Yakov said directly.

Yuuri frowned. “Excuse me?” he said softly after a long moment.

Yakov made an impatient noise on his end of the phone.“To make a long story short, I was in an… accident,” he said.“I won’t be able to accompany my student, Yuri Plisetsky, to Skate America, so I’m sending Viktor in my stead.Can you get there to make sure nothing happens to him?”

Yuuri took a moment to figure out exactly what Yakov was saying, and then repeated, “An accident?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Yakov said irately.

Yuuri shook his head to focus himself.“Um.Alright,” he muttered.“Um, why can’t you send someone else?One of your other adult skaters, or Plisetsky’s parents?”

Yakov heaved a sigh.“Listen, I wouldn’t send Vitya if there was anyone else who I trusted to do it right,” he said.“Parents aren’t an option for Plisetsky, his ballet instructor currently isn’t on speaking terms with me, and none of my other skaters are really capable of getting him through the competition.So, will you be able to get there, or should I speak to the police to find another alternative?”

“Um,” Yuuri said intelligently, trying to whip his sleep-addled brain into working. “Can I call Minako and get back to you?”

“Fine,” Yakov huffed.“But please get back to me as soon as possible.Vitya and Yura leave later tonight.”

“Of course,” Yuuri murmured.Without saying goodbye, Yakov hung up.

Yuuri sighed quietly, and then dialed Minako.She picked up on the second ring with a cheerful, "Oh, good, I was just going to call you."

"I just got off the phone with Yakov Feltsman," Yuuri said, stifling a yawn into his fist."Has he contacted you yet?"

"Yes, we spoke earlier," Minako replied."Yuuri, do you think you'll be able to get your programs ready in time if you go to Skate America?"

Yuuri hesitated, thinking hard."I don't need to win the Grand Prix Finals, I just need to qualify so that I'm there with access to the same places Viktor will have access to.Besides, my objective isn't to win, it's to protect Viktor.I can go, I'll make it work."

"Good," Minako said approvingly."I'll get back to Yakov in your name, you get things straightened out with your coach."

"Yes, Minako," Yuuri murmured, and his boss wished him luck before hanging up.

Yuuri exhaled slowly, stared down at his phone in his lap, and then dialed Celestino, wincing when his coach sounded just as exhausted as he felt when he finally answered. It took the two about an hour to negotiate the logistics of the last minute change, including transport, accommodations, and practice time for Yuuri, but at last they ended their conversation and Yuuri set about packing what he would need for the trip. It took Yuuri most of the rest of the night to finish packing and getting his affairs in order, and when he was finished he all but collapsed back in bed among luggage and skating gear, glasses still jammed on his face.

Phichit found him like that, fast asleep, and Yuuri came back to consciousness only after his friend had been shaking him awake for several seconds.“Yuki?” Phichit said uncertainly, looking around at the disarray of Yuuri’s room, the dark circles under his eyes, the stressed-out tension in his shoulders.

Yuuri stood, facing his friend, and took a deep breath to gather his wits about him.“Hey, Phichit,” Yuuri said, hoping he sounded more upbeat than he felt.“How would you feel about me going to Skate America with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence: Three people are threatened and insulted by a drunk man. One of them is shoved. Another is hit with a bottle and sustains a cut and a mild concussion, but no life-threatening injuries are inflicted in the end.
> 
> This chapter was difficult to write, but hopefully it came out alright. The next chapter should be out on or around ~~December 22nd December 26th~~ December 28th/29th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a splendid day, dear reader!


	6. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which characters meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Shows up a week late, with no Starbucks*
> 
> Ahh I'm so sorry! This is pretty much a week later than I intended to post, things really got away from me. Thank you so much for your patience! Hopefully this chapter will make up for my absence. I thought Skate America was going to be one chapter. I underestimated how chatty Viktor and Yuuri could get :) Also, just a note, if I think I'm going to be more than a day late in posting, I'll change the date estimate in the end notes of the previously posted chapter (as I did twice with the date for this chapter, oops).
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“I’m really glad you could come with me to Skate America, Yuki,” Phichit said brightly as he, Yuuri, and Celestino walked out of the airport in Milwaukee."But I'm curious, why the change of heart?"

Yuuri licked his lips, considering that, weighing his words carefully."I was thinking about it, after we went to bed," he said."I realized that... as competitive skaters, our careers are to some extent dependent on luck.I would never want you to get hurt, but if I have the chance to see my friend skate in competition, I want to take it."

Phichit gave him a tiny little smile."Aw, Yuki, thanks," he said.  Yuuri smiled back.

"How far away is out hotel?" Phichit asked.

Celestino sighed."It's hard to tell," he said."I've never been to Milwaukee before."

"I hope there's not too much traffic," Yuuri muttered.Between planning and packing the night before, he had hardly gotten any sleep.

"Yeah, you look like you're about to crash," Phichit agreed.

Celestino chuckled quietly, and patted Yuuri sympathetically on the shoulder."I'm sure you'll be able to take a nap this afternoon," he said."Just don't mess up your sleep schedule, I still expect you to practice as much as possible while we're here.”

Yuuri nodded quickly.“Of course,” he said.“That would be a good idea.”

“Don’t want you getting rusty,” Phichit added with a smile, nudging Yuuri in the side.

Yuuri laughed nervously.“Definitely not,” he agreed, thinking of the possibly horrible consequences of not being able to protect Viktor during the competitions.

“Hey, don’t stress about it,” Phichit said, sensing Yuuri’s change in mood.“I don’t think you’ll have an issue getting ice time.Didn’t you say Ciao Ciao had everything figured out?”Yuuri nodded absently, watching as Celestino hailed a cab.Phichit, probably sensing that Yuuri was still on edge about something, asked, “How much do you know about the competitors in this qualifier?”

Yuuri considered that.He had heard of a lot of the skaters competing in Skate America, but it would be good to get an insider's perspective on them, especially if they might possibly pose a threat to Viktor in some way.“I don’t know,” Yuuri said cautiously as a cab pulled up to the curb and Celestino leaned forward to speak with the driver.

“Let’s see,” Phichit said thoughtfully as he and Yuuri loaded their suitcases into the trunk of the cab and then got in the back.“There's Leo de la Iglesia.He’s American, from Arizona, so he’s on his home turf here.A lot of people at the competition will probably be rooting for him.He’s pretty good, but he’s also a bit younger than me, so he’s got quite a few years left of competition, hopefully.I think he does most of his own choreography, too.”

“What’s he like?” Yuuri asked in what he hoped was a casual voice.“It sounds like you know him rather well.”

“We’re definitely friendly,” Phichit said.“We follow each other on social media, and I have his number, so we text occasionally.I think you’d like him, I’ll introduce the two of you.”

Yuuri smiled.“He sounds nice,” he said.It would be good to meet as many skaters as possible, to ascertain the level of threat they could pose before it was too late.Yuuri hated to be so suspicious, especially since most of the ice skaters he would meet were probably perfectly nice and presumably innocent (barring a _Murder on the Orient Express_ type conspiracy, that was).But if he was going to do his job right, and uncover from the people who were threatening to kill Viktor, he had to be suspicious of everyone.Maybe even Phichit, although Yuuri was fairly sure by now that his roommate was relatively harmless.

Yuuri snapped back his attention when he realized Phichit was telling him about another competitor.“-not really the most interesting choreography, in my opinion, but he’s a strong enough skater, I suppose.”

“Um, sorry, I kind of zoned out,” Yuuri said sheepishly.“Who are you talking about?”

“Emil Nekola,” Phichit said patiently.“I don’t know him that well, honestly.I think he’s closest to Michele Crispino, who’s also competing in this event.”

“Who’s he?” Yuuri asked, wracking his brain to try to figure out if he recognized that name.

“He’s Italian,” Phichit said.“He’s, um… he’s a little odd, honestly.Way too protective of his sister, even though they’re both adults.I wouldn’t advise flirting with her, he gets super defensive.”

“Noted,” Yuuri chuckled.“I don’t anticipate it being an issue, though.”

Phichit gave him a knowing grin. “What, your heart already belongs to Viktor Nikiforov?” he teased.

Yuuri covered his face with his hands, sure he was blushing.“Shut up!” he squeaked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret, Yuki,” Phichit laughed.He leaned in and added in a low voice, “I do still think you should introduce yourself, though, at the Cup of France.”

Yuuri blushed harder, even as something akin to nervousness welled in his stomach.He would have to meet Viktor at some point, surely, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep a straight face around someone he still considered an idol, around someone whose life he was supposed to be guarding.Despite his job, Yuuri didn’t particularly consider himself a good liar.It made him nervous, and he was sure most people could tell he wasn’t telling the truth.It amazed him that he had made it as far as he had around Phichit.“I’ll think about it,” he mumbled.

Phichit made a small snorting noise.“You know he’s still human, right?” he said.“How long have you hero-worshipped him?I’m curious.”

Yuuri took a deep breath, and decided to be honest for once.“I’ve admired him for years,” he said.“He was one of the people that first inspired me to start skating.”Yuuri had been crushed when he quit skating in competition after Juniors, knowing that he would never be able to skate against Viktor on the international stage… and now he was going to, three times hopefully, and he was still processing it. Yuuri coughed awkwardly into his fist, and then added, “I’ll admit he is, um… not bad looking.  Objectively.”

Phichit snickered.“If you say so.”

Yuuri covered his eyes, pushing his glasses up on his forehead.“Who else is competing?” he asked quickly, hastily changing the subject.

Phichit smirked, but let his teasing go for the time being.“Let’s see,” he said.“Uh, Seung-gil Lee, have you heard of him?”Yuuri nodded.Lee, at least, was someone he had heard of.

“He’s from South Korea,” Phichit said.“He’s kind of a hard person to read, and sometimes his performance scores suffer because of that.  Nice, though, once you get to know him.  Hot, too.”Yuuri glanced out the window to see them turn onto the street he knew their hotel was on just as Phichit said, “And the last competitor that I know of is Yuri Plisetsky.He’s a bit of a spitfire, from what I’ve heard.He’s rink mates with Viktor.”

“Mmhm,” Yuuri murmured in agreement.Phichit smirked, but luckily didn’t tease him any further.

The cab pulled up in front of the hotel and they unloaded their suitcases in relative silence, with only a few directions from Celestino.Yuuri sighed softly as he followed Phichit and Celestino into the hotel.He was going to be sharing a hotel room with Phichit while they were in Milwaukee, but he wasn't sure there would be more than one bed.Hopefully the floor was comfortable.

A wave of exhaustion hit him as they walked up to the check in desk.“Are you going to make it?” Phichit murmured, nudging him inthe side.

Yuuri forced a smile.“Of course,” he said, forcing himself to stand straight and unwavering.“I’m just fine, don’t worry about me.”

“That’s not very reassuring,” Phichit muttered as Celestino checked them in.“You look super tired, Yuki.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri replied dryly.Phichit just shrugged.

“Come on, boys,” Celestino said quietly, beckoning them farther into the hotel and towards the elevators.“We’re on the fourth floor, and it sounds like the room you two are sharing has a bed and a pull out couch.”

“I’ll take the pull out,” Yuuri and Phichit said at the same time, and then looked at each other and smiled.

Celestino chuckled under his breath, pushing the button to call the elevator.“I’ll let you two figure that out for yourselves.”

“I don’t want you to have to sleep on the pull out, not when you’re here to support me,” Phichit said.“That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“But you have to skate in two days,” Yuuri argued, stepping into the elevator after Celestino and holding the door open for his friend.“And I was the one who decided to come extra late.The bed should be yours, by right.”

“But you’re older,” Phichit said with a grin, elbowing Yuuri.“Don’t want to damage those aging bones, do we?”

Yuuri covered his mouth to stifle his snort.“I don’t think that’s a valid argument,” he said.“You’re twenty, I’m twenty thr- twenty one.”He kicked himself internally, for almost letting his cover slip in a moment of exhausted amusement.Phichit gave him a long sideways glance, a glance Yuuri didn’t notice as he pushed his glasses up and rubbed at one of his eyes.

“Why don’t we play rock, paper, scissors for it?” Phichit suggested after a moment.

“Only if it’s comfortable,” Yuuri returned.“Phichit, you can’t sleep on the couch if it will damage your performance, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“To you, or me?” Phichit asked curiously.

“To both of us,” Yuuri said with a tiny smile.“I’m rooting for you to do your best, but I also want to compete against you in the finals.”

Phichit grinned back.“Sounds about right.OK, yeah, if it’s uncomfortable, I’ll let you take the fall.”At Yuuri’s smug smile, he added warningly, “ _This_ time.”

Yuuri laughed just as the elevator came to a stop on their floor, and the doors slid open.They made their way down the hall and stopped at a door a little ways away, almost around the corner, while Celestino handed Phichit two room keys.“I’m around the corner,” he said, and then gave them both a stern look.“I expect you both to behave.”

“Yes, coach,” Phichit and Yuuri chorused, Yuuri seriously and Phichit facetiously.

Celestino raised an eyebrow, and then shook his head.“Just text me your plans if you leave the hotel,” he said.“I don’t think I need to be babysitting you the whole time, as you’re both technically adults, but I expect you to behave as such.Understood?”

“Of course,” Yuuri said, and Phichit nodded.

“We’ll probably go out for dinner, if Yuki’s up to it,” Phichit said, glancing at Yuuri to make sure he was alright with that plan.

Yuuri nodded.“I just need an hour and a half or so,” he said.“I’m sure dinner will be fine.”

“I’ll let you two go, then,” Celestino said.“Tell me if you have any problems.”He gave them one last searching look before turning the corner to go to his own hotel room.

“Awesome,” Phichit muttered, looking down at the key cards in his hand.“When I was younger, and first started to train under him, he insisted that I always have adult supervision when I was going out.”

“He did that when you were nineteen?”Yuuri said in surprise.

Phichit made a face.“He hasn’t for the last few years, but he insisted on me texting him updates of where I was every half an hour or so.I think he’s lightening up a little for this competition, now that I’ll have someone ‘responsible’ with me.”

“Who, me?” Yuuri laughed, and Phichit snickered.“I guess,” he said.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri said.“I don’t think I really count as responsible.”Yuuri knew he put himself in danger more than was perhaps necessary, in the name of his job, but it was true that he would do his best to keep Phichit safe.He had promised.

Phichit unlocked the door to their hotel room and let Yuuri in first, dragging his suitcase behind him."Bed," Yuuri mumbled, and all but collapsed on the couch.

Phichit laughed."Well, I guess that settles that," he said, closing the door behind him.

Yuuri toed off his shoes without opening his eyes, and then snuggled deeper into the slightly scratchy couch cushions before falling asleep. 

***

Viktor and Yuri had only been at the hotel for fifteen minutes, and Viktor was already quickly losing his patience.

"This is such a small room," Yuri complained, kicking lightly at the door to the bathroom."Why do we have to share?"

Viktor sighed quietly, rubbing at his forehead in an attempt to stave off the approaching headache."Yakov only booked one room, and the hotel is apparently almost full," he said impatiently."I know it's not ideal, Yura, but I'll sleep on the couch so you can have the bed."

Yuri wrinkled his nose."Like hell you will, you're old! Your bones will break, stupid."Viktor opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get a word out Yuri stalked across the room and spat on the couch."There, it's mine now," he said in satisfaction.

"Yura," Viktor said with equal parts horror and amusement."That's disgusting."

Yuri smirked, flopping down on the couch."Thanks."

Viktor moves his suitcase out of the way and opened the closet door in the corner of the hotel room."At least let me find you extra blankets," he mumbled, and frowned when there were none to be found.

"Go ask someone if you can't find anything," Yuri said in a bored voice, staring down at his phone in disinterest."See if I care."

Viktor rolled his eyes. At least he didn't have to worry about Yuri acting differently after finding out about the people threatening him, or the near miss that landed Yakov in the hospital."I'll call the desk, they might have extra blankets," Viktor mumbled.He picked up the hotel phone on a small table by the door and dialed the front desk, frowning slightly when he was immediately put on hold.

After waiting for almost twenty minutes without hearing from any real human beings, he hung up with a sigh.“I couldn’t reach anyone,” he informed Yuri.

The teenager gave a loud, dramatic sigh, and then said, “If you’re so worried about this, why don’t you ask someone in a different hotel room if they have any extras?”

Viktor stared at him.“You think they would?”

Yuri shrugged, glancing up for a split second from whatever app he was scrolling through on his phone.“I don’t know,” he said.“You might as well ask, I guess.You have literally _no_ shame, after all.”

Viktor rolled his eyes.“Fine, if you really want me to,” he said, getting to his feet and shrugging off his coat.

“Don’t know why you think we need blankets anyway,” he thought he heard Yuri mumble as he left.“We’re from fucking Russia.”

Viktor ignored him and closed the hotel room door behind him, crossing to the door across the hall.He and Yuri were only on the fourth floor, but if the hotel had filled up as quickly as Yakov had seemed to think, there would probably be people in the room to ask about blankets.

Viktor took a deep breath to steel himself for what would inevitably be an almost unbearably awkward conversation, and then knocked quietly on the door of the hotel room next to his and Yuri’s.There was a pause, and then someone from inside the room called out, "Just a minute!"A moment later, the door was opened by a handsome young Asian man with sleep-ruffled hair, blue framed glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

"Hello," Viktor said, giving him Media Smile #3, designed to automatically put whoever he was talking to at ease.The young man’s eyes widened, and he took a step back in surprise, fingers curling around the sleeves of his overlarge sweater.Viktor winced internally.  Just his luck that he would scare the first cute man he met in a foreign country.

“Oh, um, h-hi,” the young man stammered, flushing, and he shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Yuki, who is it?” someone from deeper in the hotel room called, and a second later another darker skinned young man appeared behind the first, the cord of a headphone dangling from his ear to where it was plugged into the phone in his hand.“Oh!” the other one said, tilting his head curiously.“You’re Viktor Nikiforov, aren’t you?”

Viktor very carefully maintained his smile.“I am, yes.Are you fans?”

The second one shrugged.“Eh.”He elbowed his friend, a slow grin spreading across his face.“Yuki is, though.”

The Asian man blushed redder, and then said in a soft voice with a strong accent, “I-is there something we can help you with?”

Viktor _definitely_ didn’t blush.He didn’t blush when he met cute men with cute accents.Nope.Viktor clasped his hands in front of himself.“There is, actually,” he said, and directed his attention to Yuki, who seemed slightly more receptive to his charms.“I was wondering if you have any extra blankets I could borrow.The hotel neglected to provide them for whatever reason, and it seems the front desk is very busy.”

“Uh, yeah!” Yuki exclaimed, looking at the floor and digging one toe into the worn out carpet at his feet.He had a small hole in his sock, offering a glimpse of skin.Yuki and Viktor glanced back up at the same time.“Um, come in, please, I’ll see if I can find any.”

Viktor smiled gratefully, and perhaps a bit more flirtatiously than he meant to.“Thank you.”

As Yuki stepped aside to let Viktor in, his friend leaned in and mumbled something in his ear, something that made Yuki squawk ad go bright red, shoving him lightly.“I’m Phichit,” the dark-skinned man said with an odd note in his voice, closing the door behind him.He jerked his head in his friend’s direction.“He’s Yuki.”

“I’m Viktor,” Viktor said with a friendly smile.“But you seem to already know that, I suppose.”

“Wait, so what are you doing here in Milwaukee?” Phichit asked as he settled himself crosslegged on the bed, setting his phone down beside him and tugging the headphone out of his ear.“Are you skating in the competition?Damn, we don’t stand a chance.”

Viktor laughed.“No, I’m not skating this time,” he said.“I have the Cup of France and Rostelecom.”His attention snagged on the second part of Phichit’s sentence as Yuki awkwardly shuffled across the room in his threadbare socks and rummaged around in the closet.With resolve, Viktor directed his attention away from Yuki’s back and towards Phichit as he added, “Don’t stand a chance?Are either of you ice skaters?”

“Yeah, we both are,” Phichit said with a nod.He twisted the cord of his headphones around his wrist before unwrapping it again, something Viktor suspected was a nervous tic.

“Are you skating this competition?” Viktor pressed.

From inside the closet, Yuki made a frustrated noise and cursed under his breath as he banged his head on the low shelf inside.Viktor winced sympathetically.“Hey, man, you alright?” Phichit called.

“Fine!” Yuki called, sounding a bit irritated for some reason.

“I’m competing in Skate America for Thailand,” Phichit said, turning his attention back to Viktor.“Yuki actually happens to have the same cups you do, France and Russia.Weird coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Viktor said thoughtfully, just as Yuki emerged from the closet, still red-faced.

“We don’t appear to have any blankets either,” he said in his careful accent, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose again.

“Hm,” Viktor murmured, absently flicking his fringe out of his eyes.“Well, thank you for looking at least,” he said.“This seems to be something of a systematic issue.I’ll go down to the desk and talk to someone in person.”

“Hey,” Phichit exclaimed, jumping to his feet.He glanced between Yuki and Viktor, and said, “You should go with him, Yuki.You know, since we don’t have any extra blankets either.We might need some, you never know.Yeah, go with him.”

Yuki opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Viktor cut him off.“Of course, that would be lovely, Yuki,” he said, giving Yuki a wink.“You’re welcome to come as well, if you like,” he added, glancing at Phichit.

The Thai man waved a hand.“I have a movie to finish,” he said, gesturing at his phone, and then gave Yuki a grin that could almost be interpreted as a smirk.“Have fun, Yuki.”

Yuki glared at his friend, and they exchanged significant looks before Yuki sighed in defeat.“Yes, alright, I will come,” he said, looking up shyly at Viktor through his bangs.“As long as you don’t mind.”

Viktor smiled.“Of course I don’t mind,” he said.He had to admit, Yuki was kind of cute, in a shy, timid sort of way.Viktor wasn’t necessarily averse to getting to know the other skater better, especially if he would be seeing more of him in France and Russia.Maybe they would even end up in bed togetherat some point, if they were really going to be in close proximity for three competitions.

Yuki shrugged, slipped on his shoes, and opened he door to the hotel room.“After you,” he mumbled, giving Phichit one last glare before following Viktor out.

Viktor gave him a winning smile as the door shut behind them, and said teasingly, “After you, Yuki.”Yuki cleared his throat, and shuffled down the hallway to the elevator.Viktor fell in step with him.

“So how old are you, Yuki?” he asked.“How long have you been skating?”

“I’m twenty one,” Yuki said quietly, toying anxiously with his fingers.“I’ve been skating for more than ten years.”

Viktor’s smile softened into something slightly more genuine than normal.It was clear the other man was nervous and for some reason, he wanted to do his best to put Yuki at ease.“Did you compete in Juniors, then?” he pressed.

Yuki nodded.“I’ve been competing for a long time,” he said, avoiding Viktor’s eyes.“This is the first time I’ve been able to make it to a serious international event.”

“Congratulations, then,” Viktor said with a smile, and Yuki blushed.

“Um, thanks,” he mumbled, and then looked up at Viktor just as they reached the elevators.“So, um… if you do not mind my asking, what are you doing in America if you are not competing?”

Viktor’s smile slipped slightly, and he distracted himself with pressing the correct button to call the elevator to their floor before saying with forced nonchalance, “Oh, there was a little accident back home in Russia with my coach, so I’m here to watch Yura.Yuri Plisetsky,” he added hastily, as he had no way to know if the younger man had heard of his rink mate.

“Oh, no!” Yuki gasped, deep brown eyes widening.“Is everything alright?”

Viktor hoped Yuki wouldn’t be able to read the anger and helplessness in his eyes, the anger and helplessness that remained like a knotted ball in his gut even a few days after the “accident.”“Oh, yes, he’s just fine,” Viktor said in a voice that was intentionally airy and slightly vapid.“Unfortunately it happened just before he would have had to fly out of Russia, so we decided it would be better for Yura if I went instead to keep an eye on him.”

Yuki chewed on his lip, absently wrapping and unwrapping the hem of his soft sweater around one finger.“But don’t you have to practice for your own competitions?” he blurted, and then blushed.“Ah!Sorry, that sounded bad.I am sure you are already prepared.”He ducked his chin in what might have been an aborted bow.

Viktor chuckled.“No, I can understand that concern,” he said, and then gave Yuki a brilliant smile.“Don’t worry, I’ll give you a fair fight at the Cup of France in a few weeks.”

Yuki shrugged, but Viktor didn’t miss the flash of some unidentifiable emotion in his eyes.“I’m probably not the one you have to worry about,” he said in a voice so quiet Viktor almost missed it.

Viktor raised one eyebrow.“Oh?” he said.“Why is that?”

“I don’t have a whole lot of confidence,” Yuki said, wrapping the hem of his sweater around his finger so tightly that the tip turned slightly purple.“I also haven’t landed any clean quads in competition.They’re still kind of messy even in practice.”

Viktor eyed him curiously.“Jumps aren’t the only thing that earn you points, as I’m sure you know,” he said slowly.“Even if you don’t have quads, your PCS could still give you a fair overall score.”He studied Yuki.The younger man was shorter, with a slimmer build than Viktor, but he had a lithe strength to him, a graceful element to his walk.“You are built like a dancer,” Viktor added.“I could see you getting a high PCS, if you were in the right mindset.”

Yuki just shrugged.He looked relieved when the doors of the elevator finally slid open, and they both stepped aside while a family with harried looking parents and exhausted looking kids lugged their suitcases out.

Once they were inside the elevator and Viktor had pressed the button for the lobby, he asked, “What country do you skate for, Yuki?”

Yuki glanced sharply at him, and then his posture relaxed slightly. “Oh- I skate for Japan,” he said.“I’m from Akita.That’s, um,that is in northern Japan.”

“Is that where you train?” Viktor asked with interest.“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Akita.”

“No, I live in Tokyo,” Yuki said.

“That’s a pretty long trip to Wisconsin, then,” Viktor observed, studying Yuki out of the corner of his eye.

A tiny wrinkle appeared between Yuki’s brows as he frowned and amended, “I am sorry, I misspoke.I moved to America a few months ago to train in Detroit.”He glanced at Viktor, gave him a tiny half smile.Viktor found himself distracted by the gold flecks in Yuki’s eyes, magnified a little by his thick glasses, but brought his attention back as Yuki said, “It is strange, moving to a new country.Sometimes I forget at the rink that I am not going home to eat dinner with my family after practice.”He looked down, biting his lip again.Viktor _refused_ to look at him biting his lip.   Or just his lips in general

“Phichit is my roommate,” Yuki said.“He is from Thailand.I think he said that, maybe?He understands what it is like to train so far away from home.I wanted to come here to watch him skate, to support him.His family watches him, but they cannot come to his competitions across the world.”

Viktor smiled slightly.“That’s sweet of you,” he said, and was rewarded with a blush.“I remember when I first started skating,” he said just as the elevator doors opened to reveal the busy lobby of the hotel.“Before I was taken on by Yakov to train in St. Petersburg, I trained in Moscow.It’s different from St. Petersburg, jarring.I missed my… missed the city more than I expected.It was a bit of relief to go back home after a year, I suppose.”He flashed Yuki with a surprisingly genuine smile, one that Yuki returned, his lips curving shyly after a moment.

“Would you like me to do the talking?” Viktor guessed as he and Yuki approached the front desk, and Yuki nodded quickly.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and Viktor gave him another tiny smile before turning his attention to one of the concierges.

“Hello, I’m sorry to bother you,” he said.

“What can I help you with, sir?” the concierge said in a tired voice.Viktor gave him Media Smile #1, patient and understanding, sympathetic.

“I was wondering if it would be possible to get some extra blankets for our rooms,” he said, gesturing slightly to Yuki standing by his side.

“Of course,” the concierge said, looking down to write a note.“What is your room number?”

“433,” Viktor replied.

“Um, I am in 432,” Yuki added softly.

“I’ll have those sent up as soon as possible,” the concierge promised, rubbing at his forehead.“Sorry, it’s been a busy day.”

“Of course,” Viktor said soothingly.“You’re doing the best you can, and it’s hard when it’s so busy.”

The concierge gave him a grateful, be it slightly surprised, smile.“Yes,” he said.“That’s right.”

“Thank you very much,” Viktor said, turning.“Have a good day.”

“You too,” the concierge replied with a small nod.

Viktor gently took Yuki’s hand and tugged him back in the direction of the elevators.“I’m- I am going to take the stairs, if that’s alright,” Yuki said, ducking around a group of travelers all wearing bright green shirts and toting suitcases of the same size and brand.“Quicker.”

“I’ll come with you,” Viktor said, and let Yuki lead him to the stairwell off to the side.

They almost made it when Viktor heard someone behind them call, “Nikiforov?Viktor Nikiforov?”Viktor froze, clenched his jaw for a moment to wrestle his frustration and exhaustion under control.Yuki looked back at him, and surprise flashed across his face when he saw Viktor’s expression.

“Sorry,” Viktor mouthed, and then turned to face the person who had called his name.Three young women, probably college age, hurried up to them.

“Wow!” one of them exclaimed, eyes widening with awe as Viktor gave them a wide, bright, insincere smile.“It really is you!”

“It is,” Viktor agreed, emphasizing his accent a little.According to his manager, fans found it sexy.“Would you like an autograph?” he asked, and all three women nodded.

“Here, I have a pen,” another of them said, digging a pen out of her purse.Viktor took it with a smile, and then signed the scraps of paper they all provided.

“Are you skating in this competition, Viktor?” one of them asked with bright eyes and an excited smile.

Viktor shook his head, making sure to maintain his own smile as he handed the pen back.“I’m here to support a rink mate,” he explained.“Don’t worry, I’ll still be competing in France and Russia.”

He turned, hoping to escape, but one of the women said, “Who’s that?”

He glanced over, something that could have been embarrassment making his cheeks hot, to see her pointing at Yuki.Viktor forced the smile back on his face, and wrapped an arm loosely around Yuki’s shoulders.Yuki made a small squeaking sound that he quickly muffled.Viktor glanced quickly at Yuki, and then said, “This is Yuki… uh.Yuki-”

“Nakamura,” Yuki supplied, looking down.

“Yuki Nakamura,” Viktor repeated, memorizing the name and vowing to see if he could find any of Yuki’s performances later that night.“He’s an ice skater as well,” Viktor added.“You’ll be seeing him in some of the qualifying cups for the Grand Prix series.”

“Are you any good?” one of the women asked bluntly, a little rude, Viktor thought.

Yuki made a small sound in the back of his throat, and then straightened his spine and looked her in the eye.“I hope to skate my best,” he said.

Viktor looked to him in surprise, but quickly hid that and said, “It was lovely to meet you, ladies, but we must go.I’m still rather jet lagged, and I’m sure Yuki has places to be.”

“Good luck, Viktor!” one of the women said, and another added, “You too, Yuki.”Yuki nodded, looking a little surprised, and let Viktor lead him away.

Viktor let his arm drop from around Yuki’s shoulders as soon as they were in the safety and relative quiet of the stairwell and the door had closed behind them.“I’m sorry about that,” he said immediately.

Yuki faced him, fingers tangled together in front of him.“It’s alright,” he said, and then gave Viktor a small smile that looked a little forced.“I guess that is one of the hazards of being famous.”

Viktor laughed humorlessly.“Being recognized?Unfortunately.”

Yuki gave him a look like he sensed there was more than Viktor was saying, but thankfully didn’t press.Viktor took a deep breath, and then asked, “Do you mind if I walk up with you?”

Yuki blinked in surprise.“Of course not,” he said, and his arm twitched like he almost meant to reach out and take Viktor’s hand.Instead, he just smiled a little nervously and jerked his chin in the direction of the stairs."After you."

Viktor chuckled, and then headed up the stairs, Yuki at his heels.When they got to the fourth floor, Viktor held open the door for Yuki.Yuki gave him a small smile, eyes bright, and Viktor did his best not to let that distract him. Which it shouldn't.There was no reason why that should be distracting.

They walked in silence back down the hall, and Viktor stopped outside Yuki's door."Thanks for walking with me," he said, giving Yuki a charming grin.

Yuki flushed, but nodded."Thanks for letting me come," he mumbled.

Viktor shrugged."Well, you know, I always like to keep an eye on new talent in the competitive circuit," he teased.

Yuki blushed again, and turned to his hotel room door before freezing."Crap, I didn't bring a key," he mumbled, and then knocked on the door.

A split second after he did so Phichit opened the door, almost as if he had been hovering just inside listening to their conversation."Hi!" he chirped."You two are back quick."

"The desk said they'd send blankets up to our rooms," Viktor told him when Yuki didn't say anything in return.

Phichit gave them a bright grin."Hey Viktor, Yuki and I were going to go out for dinner," he said."Do you want to come with us?"

"Phichit!" Yuki gasped, eyes widened.

Viktor smiled in amusement."Sure, I'll come," he said easily.He had only met Yuki and Phichit a bit ago, and they were both several years younger than him, but going to dinner with them would probably be more enjoyable than spending the evening alone with an angsty, jet lagged teenager.He hesitated.“Although, my rink mate-”

“He can come,” Phichit said quickly with an easy smile.“I like getting to know the competition, after all.”

Viktor smiled back.“Alright.I’ll go talk to him.”

“We’ll meet you back here in half an hour,” Phichit informed him, and tugged gently at Yuki’s arm as Viktor nodded.

They went back in their hotel room before he could say anything else, but not before Viktor got one last glimpse of the remarkably cute blush on Yuki’s cheeks.  Viktor  stood still for a long moment, decidedly not thinking about that blush, or the gold flecks in Yuki's eyes, or his dancer's body, and then let himself into his own hotel room in silence. Viktor collapsed on the bed without saying anything to Yuri, and stared up at the ceiling with the tiniest smile on his lips.

“Oi, what’s your issue?” Yuri said after a moment, looking up from his phone.

“I’m gay,” Viktor muttered.“ _So_ gay.”

Yuri, rather predictably, threw a couch cushion at him.

***

Yuuri was silently panicking as he, Phichit, Viktor Nikiforov, and Yuri Plisetsky walked together to dinner.

He had planned to keep a low profile while at Skate America, to quietly keep an eye out for danger from the shadows and hope Viktor couldn’t notice that he was watching.What he didn’t anticipate was the man he was trying to protect showing up at the door of his hotel room a few hours after he had arrived, catching Yuuri sleepy and off his guard.He also hadn’t anticipated Phichit inviting Viktor to dinner, of all things, but perhaps he should have; the Thai man seemed to have it in his head for some reason that Yuuri had something of a crush on Viktor.That, of course, was silly.Viktor was objectively good looking, of course, and Yuuri had followed his career for years, but that didn’t necessarily denote a crush.It _didn’t_.Phichit was being overdramatic, again, and unintentionally making Yuuri’s job harder.Now that he was on Viktor’s radar, now that Viktor knew his face, knew his name (or, at least, his fake name), it would be so much harder to keep a low profile and make sure no one caught on to what he was doing.

Phichit seemed to sense his mood as the four left the hotel, and nudged Yuuri in the side.“Hey, you alright?” he murmured.

Yuuri nodded, forcing his posture to relax.“Yes, I’m fine,” he promised, hoping his voice didn’t sound too weird.

“So where should we go to eat?” Viktor asked, falling into step on Yuuri’s other side, boxing him in.That left Yuri Plisetsky to trail slightly behind, and Yuuri thought he heard a frustrated huff from the teenager behind him.

“I was looking for restaurants before you two came back,” Phichit said to Yuuri and Viktor.“I found what looks like a pretty decent diner just down the street, is that alright?”

“Sounds good,” Viktor agreed.

Phichit led the way to the diner he had found in relative silence, and once they were seated (Yuuri and Phichit on one side of the table, Yuri and Viktor across from them), Phichit asked Yuri, “Do you think you’re ready for the competition?”

Yuri snorted, slouching down in his chair.“Of course I am,” he said, long bangs falling over his eyes.“I’m ready to win.”

Phichit raised and eyebrow.“Are you, now?”

Yuri narrowed his eyes.“Yeah.I am.”

Viktor cleared his throat, probably sensing the tension.“I’ll be interested to watch the competition,” he said mildly.“Plenty of new skaters to compete against the more experienced.”He turned to smile winningly at Yuuri across from him, and said, “I assume you’ll be watching from the audience?”

Yuuri tried not to blush.“Um, yeah,” he mumbled.“Don’t think I’m allowed in the kiss and cry or down by the ice.”

“Ciao Ciao might be able to get you a pass,” Phichit said thoughtfully.“I can ask him.”Yuuri shrugged.

“It would be nice to see you again,” Viktor said in what Yuuri was reasonably sure was a deliberately flirtatious voice.He did his best not to blush, but if Phichit’s smirk, Yuri’s scowl, and Viktor’s pleased smile were anything to go by he hadn’t succeeded.

Yuri sighed loudly.“I don’t see why I had to come along on this weird pseudo date thing,” he complained in Russian to Viktor.“Why don’t you just sleep with the guy and get it over with?It’s pretty clear that’s what you want.Don’t make the rest of us suffer through your awkward, painful flirting.”

Yuuri looked down at the table and toyed with his spoon, pretending he didn’t speak Russian.Yuri wasn’t talking about _him_ , was he?That wouldn’t make sense. Yuuri knew that Viktor wasn’t straight by any means- the older man didn’t do much to hide it, despite the thinly veiled displeasure of some members of the Russian Skating Federation- but Yuuri had no idea why Viktor might want to ever sleep with _him._

A pleasant smile remained on Viktor’s face, but he said in a clipped, clearly annoyed voice, “Stay out of issues that don’t concern you, Yuri.”

“Don’t concern me,” Yuri repeated mockingly.“I’m the one who’s going to have to find somewhere else to sleep if you decide to-” He cut off suddenly with a wince, and Yuuri suspected that Viktor had kicked him in the shin.

“Let’s keep to English, shall we?” Viktor said in a level voice.

Yuri scowled deeper, and muttered something about dumb old men, but didn’t protest.There was a long moment of awkward silence, and then Viktor picked up the menu and asked, “What’s your favorite food, Yuki?”

“Katsudon,” Yuuri blurted, and then blushed.He should have said something easily explainable and less embarrassing, like pizza, or ice cream, or spinach.

Viktor looked up with interest.“What’s that?” he asked.

Yuuri pressed his lips together, thinking.“It is like a pork cutlet bowl,” he settled on, and then shrugged.“They don’t really have it in America.”

“We’ve tried to go to some Asian restaurants in Detroit,” Phichit put in, smiling sideways at Yuuri.“So far Yuki hasn’t managed to find katsudon as good as his mom’s.Apparently she’s the best he knows at making it.”

“Do your parents still live in Japan?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri nodded.

“They do,” he said, glad some elements of his cover story lined up with his own life.It made lying just a little bit easier.

“What is that food called again?” Yuri Plisetsky mumbled, staring down at his phone.“Katsudoom?”

Yuuri laughed softly.“Katsudon,” he corrected.  

After a second Yuri showed them all the screen of his phone, opened to a picture of a bowl of katsudon. “This?”

Yuuri nodded, mouth watering.“That’s it,” he said, and Yuri made a scoffing noise and wrinkled his nose.

“I bet pirozhki is better,” he mumbled.

Yuuri just shrugged.“Don’t knock it until you try it, I suppose.” 

Yuri rolled his eyes, leaning back again and pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.“Whatever,” he mumbled.

A waiter came by to take their orders and deliver drinks, and the younger Russian immediately began to toy with his straw, and then cursed when he spilled some water on the table.“Katsudon, hand me a napkin,” he snapped, looking at Yuuri.

Yuuri blinked.“Um.You know my name is Yuki, right?”

Yuri snorted.“Yuki is too close to Yuri, it’s confusing,” he said.“I’m calling you Katsudon now.”

Yuuri blinked again.

“Yuri,” Viktor said through clenched teeth.“Be polite.”

Irritation flashed in Yuri’s eyes.“Katsudon,” he said, voice deliberate and firm, his eyes locked on Yuuri.“Pass me a napkin.”

Yuuri sighed, resting his chin in his cupped hands, but passed the teenager a napkin.Viktor frowned disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything.Yuuri steeled himself.He could already tell that this was going to be a long competition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so so much for your patience. I'm going to do my best not to publish so late, and better anticipate when I'll need extra time in the future, because I know not everyone keeping up with this has an AO3 and can easily subscribe. I'm going to do my best to have the next chapter (Skate America pt. 2) done by January 5th, 2018, but it may be closer to ~~the 7th~~ the 11th depending on my schedule. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a wonderful day and a happy new year, dear reader!


	7. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot thickens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regular update schedule? What’s that? I’ve certainly never heard of it. OK but seriously, thank you for your patience, I know this is a day later than I initially changed my estimate to. There’s some more details about my update schedule for the future in the end notes, due to recent issues with updating on time.
> 
> While editing I caught several times where I wrote “Yuuri” when I should have said “Yuki,” so if I missed any more please let me know, thanks.
> 
> The first section of this chapter was partially inspired by comments from Kawaiiusagi and Blank, who both pointed out that if Viktor went looking for videos of “Yuki”, he wouldn’t find videos of the “Yuki” he’s met, which I thought was an interesting point.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuuri was up with the sun the next morning, too anxious to sleep. He tossed and turned on the slightly lumpy hotel couch for about half an hour, and then gave up on sleep.His mind raced with possibilities, worst case scenarios, even as he silently got dressed and left a note for Phichit on top of his friend’s phone before getting his shoes and skating gear and leaving the room. 

It was a short walk to the rink, and during that walk Yuuri did his best to calm himself down.He was allowed practice time on the ice as long as he didn’t interrupt the practice of the skaters competing in Skate America, but if he broke something doing panicked jumps he would probably get kicked off the ice, not to mention miss his own competitions.He knew he really shouldn’t be away from the hotel for that long anyway; it was his job to keep an eye on Viktor and make sure he wasn’t in danger, after all, and it was kind of a key element to be near while watching over the Russian. 

He would spend an hour on the ice to relax and get control of his nerves again, while it was still an obscene time to be awake, and then get back before the jet lagged skater awoke.Hopefully he would make it back before Phichit woke up as well.It would be best if his friend wasn’t asking too many difficult questions. 

Yuuri let himself into the rink, glad it was already unlocked despite the early hour, and quickly changed into his warm up clothes and skates before stepping out onto the ice.He almost instantly relaxed with the feel of the ice under his blades, and quickly slipped into the familiar patterns of compulsory figures in the center of the ice.His racing thoughts slowed a little as he skated relaxed figure after relaxed figure, and the panic and anxiety that had been welling in his stomach since meeting Viktor the day before abated slightly. His situation wasn’t ideal, sure, he would have preferred to remain inconspicuous, but it wasn’t the end of the world.He  _was_  a trained agent, after all.He could handle this.He  _could_.He would find a way to make things work. 

Yuuri had no idea how long he was skating until he heard the door to the rink open and close, and someone’s soft footsteps walking towards the ice.Yuuri shook himself out of his almost trancelike state and looped around to face the entrance.To his surprise and mild horror, Viktor Nikiforov was standing by the boards, quietly watching him skate with an odd expression on his face. 

Yuuri swallowed hard to brace himself before skating closer.“Good morning,” he said quietly once he was within earshot, making sure to keep his Japanese accent steady and relatively thick.“I did not expect to see you here.” 

Viktor smiled slightly.“Jet lag’s a bitch,” he chuckled. 

Yuuri smiled tentatively.“I am surprised you are at the rink, I meant.” 

Viktor shrugged, sitting down and slipping off his shoes to pull on his skates.“Can I join you?” he asked. 

Yuuri shrugged, and then nodded.“You have just as much right to the ice as I do,” he said.“Arguably more.” 

Viktor snorted, running through a few quick stretches before stepping into the ice.“What do titles and medals mean?” he muttered bitterly in Russian.“They don’t mean anything to me anymore.”Yuuri bit his lip, deciding to stay silent.After all, he wasn’t supposed to be able to speak Russian. 

Viktor made eye contact with him, and gave him a smile that seemed slightly forced.“I had a good time at dinner last night,” he said.

Yuuri blushed, unable to meet his eyes.“Um.So did I.” 

The two skated in careful circles around each other, Viktor thoughtful and Yuuri cautiously guarded, until Viktor said suddenly, “I found a video of you from All Japan a few years ago.” 

Yuuri swallowed hard, doing his utmost not to look nervous.“Oh?” he said.“Um, what year?” 

Viktor smiled slightly but there was something harder in his eyes.“2014.” 

Yuuri winced.That was arguably the real Yuki’s roughest year.He had come in 27th, and hadn’t been able to advance to the free skate.In Yuki’s defense, he had had been skating on what was later discovered to be a strained ankle, and it had been his first year in the senior division, but the whole season for the boy had been a drawn out train wreck.

“You’ve come a long way since then, it’s interesting to see,” Viktor said thoughtfully, in a voice that was so nonchalant it almost seemed fake. 

Yuuri anxiously shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose, hoping he didn’t look as sweaty and nervous as he felt.“Um,” Yuuri mumbled, looking down at the ice beneath his skates.“Thank you?” 

Viktor was quiet for a long moment, and then said, “I’m sorry, that sounded insulting.I just meant that it’s impressive how much you’ve improved over the last few years.” 

Yuuri very carefully planned his next figure so that his back was facing Viktor when he said, “I have been practicing very hard in order to get to the level I am at.” 

“Of course,” Viktor said quickly.“I was just wondering…”He trailed off, ducking his chin with a small frown.Yuuri almost opened his mouth to ask, but to be honest he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. 

“I managed to find some videos from your Junior days as well,” Viktor added, casually stretching out one arm with his fingers elegantly half curved as he skated a slow figure. 

“Oh?” Yuuri said, licking his lips in an attempt to make his mouth feel a little less like a desert. 

“It kind of led me down the rabbit hole of other Japanese skaters,” Viktor added, flicking his fringe out of his eyes.“Have you ever heard of Katsuki Yuuri?” 

Yuuri was fairly sure his heart stopped for a second and he coughed into his palm in surprise.“Um, sure?” he finally croaked.“But he’s, um, he is not an ice skater any more.” 

“I know,” Viktor agreed.“I was just curious to know if you had met him.Watching you, just now, your steps look like they were inspired by him.He was quite good, it seems like, before he retired.He could have made it pretty far in seniors, I think.Did you see his last competition in person, I think Juniors Worlds was in Japan that year.Didn’t he win?” 

Yuuri forced himself to shrug and face Viktor with a relaxed, natural expression.“Yes, I have met him,” he said in a surprisingly steady voice.He pushed down his internal crippling embarrassment at complimenting and pretending to like himself before absently playing with his glasses and saying, “I kind of idolized him as a kid, actually.Maybe not the strongest skater in Japan, but... but it was nice to see someone else on the ice like me.Someone else on the ice who gets as nervous as I do.”Yuuri have Viktor a little shrug.“I always wanted to skate on the same ice as him.I was disappointed when he retired.”He took a deep breath, flushed, and hoped that his lie sounded realistic enough. 

To his relief, Viktor just chuckled.“That makes sense,” he said.“I used to idolize some of my older rink mates as well.Do you know what Katsuki’s doing now?” 

Yuuri a eyes widened.“He’s ah- he’s an actuary!” he blurted without thinking.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, and then shrugged.“That’s an interesting choice, I suppose,” he said with a small smile, and then shook his head as if to focus himself, “I’m sorry, I’m being very rude,” he said.“I read that you were injured last season.How is your ankle feeling?” 

“Um, it’s better,” Yuuri mumbles, letting his hair fall in his face.He had absolutely no idea why someone like Viktor Nikiforov would want to have a conversation with him, would want to even associate with him, but if it meant Viktor was in a place that Yuuri could keep an eye on him, he would adapt.“How’s your knee?” he squeaked, and then blushed. 

Viktor blinked in surprise, and then gave him a small, almost fragile smile.“I’m surprised you know about that,” he said quietly.“I injured my knee in... 2013?It was a while ago.”He absently reached down and massaged his thigh just above his knee.“It’s mostly fine, by now.Twinges after long practices occasionally, but it’s fine.Thanks for asking.” 

Yuuri shrugged, sure his face was an unhealthy shade of red.He and Viktor skated silently for a while, and then Viktor said suddenly, “Do you want to do a run through of one of your programs?” 

Yuuri almost stumbled over a smooth patch of ice in surprise.“What?” 

Viktor smiled.“Of course, not with the full jumps,” he said.“I’m curious, though, to see how your style has changed.There’s only so much you can tell from watching someone skate figures.” 

Yuuri swallowed nervously.“I’m...um, OK,” he mumbled. 

Viktor gave him a wide, heart shaped smile and skated to the edge of the ice.“Go ahead,” he said encouragingly, crossing his arms over his chest.His posture was relaxed, but there was something almost coiled in the way he watched Yuuri. 

Yuuri took a deep breath, and then got in his starting position at the center of the ice.He had absolutely no idea why Viktor wanted him to skate his program, but it would probably be more suspicious to refuse.After all, who would refuse a chance to skate for the five time world champion? 

Viktor nodded thoughtfully.“Do you need music, Yuki?” he asked. 

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” Yuuri said softly.He swallowed hard, pushed his hair off his forehead, pushed his glasses up his nose in the hopes that they wouldn’t fall off, and then closed his eyes and began. 

His theme for the season was beginnings (something Yuuri found a little amusing and a little sad, because it implied a future as a figure skater that he would never get to have), and to match that, his program music started out quiet and got progressively more dynamic as it went along. 

Yuuri carefully marked a double axel, deciding not to risk the difficult jump, and glided into his first step sequence.As he skated he could feel Viktor’s eyes on him, he could feel Viktor’s eyes following him as he moved, watching his every step and turn and spin and jump.It didn’t make him as nervous as he would have expected, Yuuri decided, as he twisted into a layback and let his eyes open again.He was skating to prove that he could, skating in order to make it to the finals in order to protect Viktor.In a strange way, that took some of the pressure off.He wanted to skate his best, of course, and he  _would_. But if he didn’t, it wasn’t the end of the world.That was a bit of a strange mentality, in his case, but hell, if it worked it worked. 

Yuuri realized he was coming up on another jump element, a triple Salchow triple flip combination, and at the last minute decided to go for it, launching himself in the air with all the energy he could gather.He could tell almost immediately that he was going to over rotate, and if Viktor’s cry of “Yuki!” was anything to go by, Viktor knew too. 

Yuuri winced as his palms scraped the ice, but pushed himself back to his feet before downgrading the flip to a wobbly double.Face burning with embarrassment, Yuuri skated through the rest of his short program in a daze, ending in his final position with one arm curled almost protectively around his chest and the other held out and to the side, pointing down a little. 

There was a long moment of silence, and then Viktor started to clap quietly.“I underestimated you,” he said, pushing away from the wall and skating towards Yuuri.“I apologize.That was lovely.” 

Yuuri blinked.“Um… thanks?” he said. 

Viktor chuckled.“If you skate like that at your qualifiers for the Grand Prix, with the proper jumps, of course, I might have some competition.Your musicality is… fascinating.In the best possible way, of course.” 

Yuuri went red.“Thanks,” he squeaked again. 

Viktor gave him a smile, and winked.“I think I’ll be seeing you at the finals,” he said.

***

The next day found Yuuri rink side next to his coach and his rink mate, mindlessly watching the short programs and trying not to worry too much. 

“Yuki,” Phichit said comfortingly, putting a hand on his shoulder.“I don’t know why you’re so freaked out.I’m the one competing.” 

“I’m nervous for you,” Yuuri mumbled, pressing his lips together.“I want you to win.”He gazed sightlessly out at the ice as Leo de la Iglesia touched down on a triple flip.Phichit was skating second to last, and with every skater’s performance Yuuri could feel the tension and stress building up under his skin until he felt like he was going to explode. 

Phichit smiled, nudging Yuuri.“Don’t worry about me,” he said.“I’m going to skate my best.”He focused on Leo out in the center of the ice as the American struck his final pose, and then murmured, “That’s something I can be proud of.” 

Leo exited the ice to receive his scores and Emil went out onto the ice.“You’re next,” Yuuri muttered, anxiously twining his fingers together and chewing on his lip.“Oh,  _god_ , you’re next.” 

Phichit chuckled.“Yuki, calm down,” he said.“Do you need a minute?” 

Yuuri shook his head.He had no idea why he was so nervous for Phichit.He knew his friend was a confident and competent ice skater.He knew Phichit would skate his heart out to a song he loved, and might even make the podium.But Yuuri had forgotten how much the pressure of competition could get to him, even if  _he_  wasn’t the one competing.It didn’t really bode well for the competitions where he  _would_  be skating.Maybe he had underestimated his own confidence.After all, he hadn’t skated in several years, not seriously.His quad toe was still very questionable, and he would be competing literally against the best of the best, and- 

“Yuki,” someone said, and Yuuri tore his attention out of his own head to see Phichit studying him worriedly.“Are you alright?” he said.“You were getting really pale, and you started shaking.Do you need to leave?” 

“No!” Yuuri blurted, and then covered his face with his hands.He took a deep breath, and then looked up again to see that Emil was almost finished with his performance.“No, I’m fine, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, looking down. 

Phichit gave him a cautious smile.“Don’t worry about it.Will you watch me?” 

Yuuri looked up quickly.“Of course!” he exclaimed, and then gave phichit a slightly shaky smile back.“Of course I’ll watch you.That’s why I’m here.” 

Emil ended his routine to thunderous applause, and Yuuri clapped numbly along as his friend took off his skate guards and handed them to Celestino.“See you after!” he chirped to Yuuri, and then skated out to the center of the ice with his arms raised welcomingly and an enormous grin on his face. 

Yuuri anxiously fiddled with the zipper on his jacket, and then asked Celestino, “What are the standings so far?” 

“So far Yuri Plisetsky is in first place,” Celestino answered, eyes on the center of the ice as Phichit took his starting position and waited for the music to start.“De la Iglesia is in second, Nekola is in third, and Crispino is in fourth.But Phichit and Seung-gil Lee still haven’t gone.” 

Yuuri bit his lip, breath a little short.Michele’s performance had been rather lackluster, in his opinion.The Italian seemed to have just been going through the motions, and despite his technical precision he hasn’t seemed to really  _feel_ his skate.Phichit could do better than that, couldn’t he?Phichit had such an amazing presence on the ice.Surely he would be able to enchant the audience wit his skating. 

There was a breathless moment of anticipation as the arena fell almost completely silent, and then Phichit’s music swelled and he jumped into motion, sliding into the first steps of his skate.Yuuri watched, enraptured, as Phichit skated his routine, only touching down on one jump, his triple lutz.Yuuri was sure he was one of the first to start clapping and cheering when Phichit struck his final pose, breathing hard and grinning widely. 

As soon as Phichit got off the ice Yuuri squeezed his friend in an enthusiastic hug, Phichit clinging right back.“You did so well!” Yuuri said loudly over the roar of the audience.“Phichit, congratulations!” 

Phichit laughed happily.“Thanks!” he exclaimed, and pushed his sweaty hair out of his face.“Are you coming to the kiss and cry?” 

Yuuri glanced at Celestino, who shrugged.“Sure,” Yuuri said with a small smile, and then laughed when Phichit tugged him towards the kiss and cry. 

“I think I did well,” Phichit said.“I hope so, at least.How did I look?” 

“You looked really good,” Yuuri promised, widening his eyes.“I think that’s one of the best performances of your program I’ve seen you give.” 

Phichit gave him a bright grin.“Thanks!” he exclaimed. 

Yuuri and Celestino sat on either side of Phichit in the kiss and cry, and Yuuri anxiously jiggled his knee and scanned the area for Viktor as they waited for Phichit’s scores.To his relief he spotted the Russian off to the side, saying something to his young rink mate with a frown on his face, not seemingly in danger.Viktor looked up just as Yuuri found him, and smiled when he caught Yuuri’s eye. 

Yuuri blushed violently and looked away, and then Phichit was clutching at him and yelling in his ear in excitement.Yuuri looked up to see that Phichit’s scores had been announced: his friend was in first place, Yuri Plisetsky three points behind him. 

“Phichit!” Yuuri exclaimed in excitement, hugging his friend back.“You’re winning!” 

Phichit wordlessly squealed in excitement, and then added breathlessly, “I got a personal best! Yuki, oh my gosh!” 

“Good job, Phichit,” Celestino said with an amused smile.Phichit grinned back, utterly delighted. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Celestino laughed, ushering them out of the kiss and cry as, on the ice, Seung-gil began his program. 

“Come on, Yuki, let’s watch him,” Phichit said with shining eyes, nodding towards the ice.Yuuri smiled, opened his mouth to agree, but before he could say anything his cell phone began to buzz in his pocket. 

Phichit paused, watching him with an odd expression on his face, as Yuuri pulled it out and frowned down as Minako’s contact information on the screen.“I’m so sorry,” he said.“I have to take this.” 

“Who is it?” Phichit asked with a curious tilt of his head. 

“My advisor for university back in Japan,” Yuuri lied smoothly.“Sorry, I will be right back.”He gave Phichit an apologetic smile, caught Celestino’s eye to make sure the coach knew where he was going, and then quickly left. 

As soon as he was in a quiet hallway and the door had closed behind him, Yuuri answered the phone.“Hi, Yuuri-san, how’s America?” Minami said. 

Yuuri blinked in surprise, pulled the phone away from his ear to look at the screen again, and then brought the device back up to his face and said, “Minami-kun, what are you doing on Minako’s phone?” 

Minami laughed.“She left to go find something, since you were taking so long to answer,” he replied.“Oh!Here she is.” 

There was a rustle on the other end of the phone, and then Minako said impatiently, “Good, you’re on.” 

“Hello,” Yuuri said cautiously.He glanced around, making sure he was alone, and then sank down against the wall off to the side.“What’s the matter?” 

“I have some intel for you,” Minako replied briskly.There was the sound of rustling papers, and then she said, “Does the name Sergey Markov ring any bells?” 

“Sergey Markov?” Yuuri repeated, trying the name.“Um, no, I don’t think so.Who is he?” 

“I’ll email you more information later,” Minako said, to Yuuri’s irritation not directly answering the question.“Yesterday the Interpol office in Ukraine contacted us about the interrogation of a petty criminal they picked up who tried to doge jail by offering information about this man, Markov.The guy they talked to, this criminal, claimed to have had contact with Markov before.He’s apparently got his fingers in a lot of pies, so to speak, and is pretty bad news… assault, murder, political corruption and bribery, counterfeiting, gambling, drug trafficking, alleged connections with the Russian mafia… Nothing concrete, of course.No conclusive evidence, only circumstance and conjecture and reasonably plausible theories.Not enough to arrest the guy for anything.” 

“That’s unfortunate,” Yuuri said quietly, frowning a little. “But I fail to see how it relates to my current mission.” 

“The key is gambling,” Minako explained.“Markov is supposedly involved in a lot of high stakes gambling on a variety of things, including gambling on several different sports.” 

Yuuri slowly exhaled as he connected the dots.“And you think he’s gambling on figure skating,” he said slowly.“Don’t you think that’s a little far fetched, Minako?” 

“But the thing is, it’s not,” Minako said impatiently, a hint of something almost petulant in her voice.“The kind of gambling we’re dealing with involves a lot of money,” she explained.“The stakes can be remarkably high.Money can be a very powerful motivator, surely you know that.” 

“Sure,” Yuuri agreed, sighing tiredly.“But who would bother to bet on figure skating?Much less gambling with stakes that high.” 

He could almost hear Minako’s eye roll, and then she said, “You’d be surprised.Figure skating is still fairly popular in Russia, more so than in many other countries.I wouldn’t be surprised if there were people in the mafia or with mafia ties who were invested enough in their bets on figure skaters to take matters into their own hands should things not go their way.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he realized the implication.“You mean if they didn’t bet on Viktor, they might try to take him out of the competition altogether.Either by intimidating him into quitting or… or physically hurting him.” 

“Exactly,” Minako confirmed grimly. 

Yuuri chewed on his lip, tasted blood on his tongue.“Should I try to keep an eye out for Markov, then?”he asked. 

Minako snorted.“Yuuri, someone like him wouldn’t be doing his own dirty work,” she said.“He’d hire someone to do it for him.” 

“Who?” Yuuri said, helpless frustration building in his chest.“Who should I be looking out for?” 

“I’m sorry, Yuuri, we’re not sure,” Minako replied, and she did sound apologetic at least.“We have a few suspects, people known to be involved in some way with him.I’ll send you pictures of people to look out for now, and more info later.” 

“Yeah, that sounds alright,” Yuuri agreed, nervously running his hand through his hair.“Anything else I need to know?” 

“When you started this mission, we told you we believe someone within the skating community is involved with the people threatening Viktor,” Minako said.“In light of the theory that these threats might be motivated by money, keep an ear to the ground and take notice of competitors who might be financially challenged or who might be in enough trouble money-wise to resort to dealing with a criminal organization to fund their career.Not everyone can be funded by an international crime fighting organization for the purpose of a deep undercover mission, remember.Skating is an expensive sport.” 

Yuuri laughed in spite of himself.“Alright, will do,” he said. 

“I’ll be in contact,” Minako promised, and then hung up before Yuuri could say anything else. 

“Awesome,” he muttered, and then stood and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.He needed to get back to where Phichit was, where Viktor was- 

Yuuri ducked back around the corner on instinct when he saw someone else coming down the hallway, and then kicked himself.There was nothing more suspicious he could do than act like he wasn’t supposed to belong. 

And then to his horror the other person stopped, and after a moment said in soft Italian, “You actually picked up.” 

Yuuri held his breath, and then very carefully peeked around the corner.Michele Crispino, one of the other competitors, was leaning against the wall less than a meter away, his cell phone pressed to his ear.Yuuri let the air in his chest out slowly.He spoke rudimentary Italian, and had a decent understanding of Spanish, so he could get the gist of what the Italian man was saying. 

Of course, Michele wouldn’t know that, but if he was really as temperamental as Phichit claimed, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to even appear to be listening in on what seemed to be a personal and private conversation.Yuuri opted to stay where he was for the time being, and try to escape when the Italian left. 

On the phone, Michele sighed quietly and then said, “I realize.But I know what I need.Please.I’m begging you.”There was something longing, almost broken in his voice, and after another long pause anger was added into the mix as Michele snapped, “Why not?” Yuuri shifted a little closer as his voice lowered and he murmured, “Please.I need this.I can’t win otherwise.” 

Yuuri frowned.That sounded almost… suspicious.Almost as if Michele was up to something. 

Michele sighed loudly, and Yuuri heard a small thump, like Michele has hit the wall.“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said shortly, and then added in an almost inaudible whisper, “Love you.”He sighed deeply, and after a moment slow footsteps walked away, back in the direction of the rink. 

Yuuri stayed where he was, thinking hard.He had to admit, Michele’s conversation had sounded a little suspicious, sure, but there could very well be a reasonable explanation for everything.Besides, generally criminals didn’t say  _I love you_  to their bosses. Yuuri would have to remember the conversation he had overheard, probably relay it to Minako later, and possibly investigate a little, but it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. 

Yuuri sighed softly and set off walking back in the direction of the ice, letting himself back into the main part of the rink without a sound.He quickly found Celestino, standing and talking to another coach Yuuri recognized as Leo’s, but Phichit was no where to be found.Celestino caught sight of him and interrupted himself to say, “Everything alright, Yuki?” 

Yuuri tried to give him a reassuring smile.“Everything is fine,” he said.“Where’s Phichit?” 

Celestino glanced around.“Last I saw he was talking to Seung-gil,” he said.“Phichit’s in second, Lee passed him.” 

Yuuri cleared his throat guiltily.“Thanks,” he said. 

Celestino gave him a small, patient smile.“Go ahead,” he said.“You can go and find him if you like.Just let me know what you two plan to do for the night.” 

Yuuri nodded.“Got it,” he said, and then headed off to find his rink mate.He finally found Phichit talk by the door to Seung-gil, both of them still in their short program costumes.He hung back for a moment- their conversation looked private, bordering on flirtatious if the way Phichit was blushing and smiling and touching Seung-gil’s arm was anything to go by- but he didn’t even wait a minute before Phichit caught sight of him and waved him over. 

“Seung-gil,” he said, pulling Yuuri close and putting a friendly arm around his shoulders.“Have you met Yuki?” 

Seung-gil eyed him suspiciously.“Yuki,” he repeated in a flat, slightly accented voice, and then shook his head slightly.“I don’t believe I have.” 

“Well, Seung-gil, meet Yuki,” Phichit said with a grin.“Yuki, meet Seung-gil.” 

Yuuri bowed slightly.“It’s nice to meetup,” he said. 

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Seung-gil replied dryly. 

Yuuri returned his attention to his friend, and said, “Ciao Ciao wants to know our plans for the night.” 

Phichit bit his lips, glancing guilty at Seung-gil.Yuuri easily read the mood.“That’s alright,” he said before Phichit could get a word out. 

Phichit blinked.“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he said with a laugh. Yuuri just smiled. 

“Oh, wow, is it that obvious?” Phichit laughed. 

Yuuri just shrugged.“I know what you look like when you’re flirting,” he replied.“Anyone could tell.You’re not exactly subtle, Phichit.” 

“That’s definitely true,” Seung-gil muttered, and then grunted when Phichit elbowed him in the stomach. 

“I’m alright on my own, I promise,” Yuuri said with a smile. 

Phichit glanced at Seung-gil again, who rested a hand on his lower back, and then said, “We’re going out to dinner.Is that alright?” 

“I’m not your parent,” Yuuri replied with a shrug.“Have you told Celestino?” 

Phichit made a face.“He knows we always... meet up,” he said delicately.“He’s not crazy about it the night before a competition, but he doesn’t forbid me from going out.” 

“Have fun, then,” Yuuri wished him. 

Seung-gil looked down at Phichit, and then said, “I’ll meet you at your hotel in an hour, alright?”Phichit nodded.Seung-gil pecked him in the lips, and then left with a somber nod in Yuuri’s direction. 

Phichit covered his mouth to hide his smile, eyes sparkling.Yuuri waited until the Korean man was out of earshot before grinning at his friend and asking, “How serious are you two?” 

Phichit giggled a little.“Not too serious,” he promised.“We both know it’s a casual relationship, what with living across the world from each other.But we hook up at every competition we share.So I guess kind of serious?I like him a lot, at least.” 

Yuuri patted his friend on the back.“Have fun, then.” 

“Yeah, I probably won’t be back tonight,” Phichit said with a sheepish laugh, ruffling his fingers through his hair.“Sorry to abandon you.”  

“I don’t feel abandoned, I promise,” Yuuri laughed. 

Phichit shrugged.“You came here to support me,” he said, and then his eyes focused on something over Yuuri’s shoulder.“I feel bad leaving you alone... Hey, Viktor!”Yuuri turned in surprise just in time to see Viktor wave at Phichit, and say something to Yuri Plisetsky before heading over. 

“Phichit,  _no_ ,” Yuuri whispered. 

“Phichit,  _yes_!” Phichit replied just as Viktor reached them. 

“Hi, Phichit,” he said with a friendly smile that got a little friendlier when he glanced at Yuuri.“Hi, Yuki.” 

“H-hi,” Yuuri muttered, looking down at his shoes in an unsuccessful attempt to hide his blush.Viktor winked at him, and then said, “How can i help you gentlemen today?” 

“Are you free for dinner again?” Phichit asked.Viktor blinked in surprise, and then said in a voice caught somewhere between joking and surprised, “What, you want to spend more time with me?” 

“I have a date,” Phichit told him, and then clapped Yuuri on the back.“But Yuki’s evening is wide open.” 

“Phichit,” Yuuri hissed, smacking his friend’s shoulder, and then turned to Viktor.“Ignore him,” he said.“I know you have plenty of other things to do, I would never want you to feel obligated-“ 

“I would love to spend the evening with you,” Viktor said, giving him a flirtatious smile.His face fell slightly, and he said almost reluctantly, “But Yuri-“ 

“I can handle myself for one night, old man,” Yuri Plisetsky said as he slumped up to them.He gave Viktor a light kick in the ankle, and added, “But whatever you do, don’t drag me along in your gross date hookup thing.I can’t stand another night of watching you two flirt.” 

“We don’t- I didn’t-“ Yuuri spluttered, But he was mostly ignored. 

“Are you sure you’re alright in your own?” Viktor said worriedly. 

Yuri rolled his eyes.“For fuck’s sake, I’m fifteen,” he said.“I’ll Skype Potya or something.” 

Viktor bit his lip.“Are you sure?” he said again. 

Yuri sighed in loud irritation.“Maybe you’ll be less annoying if you get laid,” he said bluntly. 

Yuuri make a choking noise, and Viktor blushed. “No one said anything about that,” he said, and then mouthed,  _I am so sorry_  at Yuuri. 

“Whatever,” Yuri huffed.“I’m going to wait over there so you can get your shit together.”He jerked his chin in the direction of the door.“Come find me when you’re ready to leave.” 

“Sure,” Viktor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Yuri squinted at Yuuri.“I’ll see you around, Katsudon,” he said, and then sneered in Phichit direction.“And I’ll beat you tomorrow.” 

“We’ll see,” Phichit said with a cheerful grin.Yuri made a face before wandering off with his shoulders hunched and his hands stuffed in the pockets of his Team Russia jacket. 

Viktor cleated his throat, turning back to Yuuri and Phichit.“I’m sorry for him,” he said. 

“Uh, it’s fine,” Yuuri said, absolutely sure he was bright red. 

Viktor gave him a hopeful look.“If my rink mate didn’t scare you away, so you still want to go dinner with me?” 

Yuuri blinked, and then smiled slightly and nodded.“Sure,” he said shyly, and then nodded more resolutely.“Yes, I’d like that.” 

Viktor gave him a bright, beautiful smile, and clapped him on the shoulder."I'll meet you in the hotel lobby?" he suggested, and Yuuri nodded. 

“I’ll see you then,” he said quietly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.Viktor beamed at him, and then gave them a little wave before going after Yuri Plisetsky.

“Well,” Phichit said, turning to Yuuri with a slightly smug smile.“It looks like you have a date.”

***

Yuuri and Viktor met in the hotel lobby about an hour later. 

Despite feeling like he might be making a mistake, to go on a date with the person he was supposed to protect, Yuuri was excited.Viktor had been his idol for years, a figure to strive to be equal to, or to admire from afar.Yuuri was sure he was living in some sort of alternate reality where it made sense that someone like Viktor Nikiforov would want to go out with someone like him, but if he was he  _really_  liked it. 

Yuuri found Viktor waiting by the edge of the lobby, hands tucked casually in his pockets as he studied the ceiling high above him.“Hello,” Yuuri said quietly once he was within earshot, and Viktor gave him a smile. 

“Hi, Yuki,” he said, and gave Yuuri a very obvious once over.“You look nice,” he added. 

Yuuri blushed and fiddled with the cuff of his dress shirt.“Thank you.So do you.” 

Viktor preened, flicking his hair out of his eyes, and then offered a hand to Yuuri.“Are you ready?” he asked. 

Yuuri anxiously licked his lips before taking the offered hand, lacing their fingers together.“Is Italian alright?” Viktor asked as he and Yuuri left the hotel.

Yuuri quickly nodded.“I’m not a picky eater,” he said.Viktor just smiled, and squeezed his hand a little.

Yuuri didn’t bring up the one thing he was worried about until after he and Viktor both had had a glass of wine, and Viktor was on his second.“Um... about what Yuri said,” Yuuri muttered. 

Viktor glanced up curiously.“What part?” he asked, and then rolled his eyes.“He says a lot of things.” 

“I, um... I don’t think I want to sleep with you tonight,” Yuuri blurted, and then flushed. 

Viktor studied him for a moment, and then shrugged and nodded.“That’s fine,” he replied. 

“It’s not that you’re not attractive,” Yuuri babbled, missing Viktor’s answer for the time being.“You are, you’re very attractive!And I’m sure you’re good in bed, it’s just that we’ve only just met-”He cut himself off, and then said in a small voice, “Wait, you’re not mad?” 

Viktor blinked, and then set down his glass and looked Yuuri straight in the eye.“Yuki," he said seriously, and his hand twitched as if to reach for Yuuri before thinking better of it.“I don’t want to have sex with you unless I have enthusiastic consent.I would  _never_  push someone into sleeping with me if they weren’t comfortable doing so.Of course I’m not mad.”Viktor smiled and shook his head. 

“Oh, well, um, good,” Yuuri stammered, red.Viktor gave him a warm smiled and carefully reached across the table, cupping Yuuri’s hand in his. 

The rest of dinner passed all to quickly for Yuuri’s taste in a blur of good food and even better conversation, and all too soon they were paying the check and leaving.Viktor, like the perfect gentleman he was, held Yuuri’s hand on the entire walk back to the hotel, smiling at Yuuri all the while.They made their way up in the elevator in silence, and when they reached their floor Viktor let Yuuri out first before following him down the hall. 

The two stopped in front of Yuuri’s hotel room door, and Viktor faced Yuuri before reaching out to take his hands.“I had a lot of fun tonight, Yuki,” he said in a low voice, eyes fixed on Yuuri’s face. 

Yuuri swallowed hard.“So did I,” he replied softly.He and Viktor were standing fairly close, and Viktor’s hands were warm in his, and before he could stop himself Yuuri’s eyes darted down to look at Viktor’s lips for a split second before returning to his eyes. 

“Yuki, can I kiss you?” Viktor murmured suddenly.His face was close enough that Yuuri could feel warm breath on his cheek, see the hope in Viktor’s pale eyes, but the other man wasn’t invading his personal space too much. 

Yuuri swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and then stood up on his tiptoes and gently pressed their lips together.With similar delicacy Viktor brought his hands up to cup Yuuri’s face, one thumb brushing against Yuuri’s cheek, his fingertips resting near Yuuri’s hairline.Yuuri exhaled slightly in delight and surprise, opening his mouth, and with no sense of urgency deepened the kiss. 

Viktor kissed him right back, his tongue darting out to brush at Yuuri’s lips before they both pulled away from each other the tiniest amount.Yuuri found himself distracted by the light shining in Viktor’s eyes, an expression he hadn’t really seen on the other man before. Their breath mingled in the small space between them as they gazed at each other, Viktor still cupping Yuuri’s face, and then as if with one mind both leaned in and kissed each other again. 

They kissed for a while outside Yuuri’s hotel room door, quiet and soft and gentle, before Viktor finally pulled away.“As fun as this is,” he said, breathless, “Yura is probably wondering where I am.”He studied Yuuri, almost looking concerned. “I’m sorry.” 

Yuuri smiled.“It’s alright,” he said shyly, looking up at Viktor through his bangs.“I understand.” 

Viktor bit his lip,an unfairly attractive motion, and then leaned back in once more.This time the kiss was harder, deeper, with an almost desperate edge, and when they parted Yuuri was breathing hard and there was a light blush high on Viktor’s cheeks.“Hi,” he whispered. 

“Hi,” Yuuri murmured back, eyes wide.He felt like his heart was going to thump out of his chest, like a legion of happy butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach.

Viktor gave him one last kiss, this time on the cheek, and then stepped back with a small smile, arms falling to his sides.Yuuri numbly touched his tingling lips, watching as Viktor gave him a wink and a smile over his shoulder before letting himself into his own hotel room.“Goodnight, Yuki,” he said with a soft smile.“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See you,” Yuuri echoed.He stood outside his own hotel room for a moment once Viktor had closed the door, and then shook himself to alertness and unlocked the door, taking care to lock it again once it was closed. 

“Well,” Yuuri mumbled to himself, falling onto the couch and staring blankly up at the ceiling even as a wide grin stretched his lips.“That complicates things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Viktor is testing Yuuri just a little bit in the first section of this chapter. He thinks it’s an “interesting” coincidence that Yuuri has both of the same qualifiers as him for the Grand Prix series, but after seeing Yuuri skate his suspicious is alleviated. (Obviously, a spy or a police officer wouldn’t be able to skate that well. That’s just ridiculous, it would never happen.)
> 
> Now some business:
> 
> To extrapolate from my recent update patterns, I think I’m going to change my update schedule from once a week to once every nine or ten days, because that seems to be about the amount of time I need to write the chapter length that I want. With Prodigy I was able to pull off weekly updates (relatively stress free, most of the time) because those chapters averaged around 5.5k words, but I just can’t manage 6-7k word chapters in a week for Confidential Information. So I’m going to estimate that the next chapter will be out on or around the ~~20th~~ 23rd of January. Thank you so much for understanding! I want to be able to give you guys decently long chapters that make sense, aren’t too sloppy, and are somewhat interesting to read; hopefully this schedule will work better for me, and maybe even allow me to get a little ahead so I don’t miss deadlines when I’m busy (fingers crossed :D) (lol probably jinxed it now tbh)
> 
> Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fabulous day, dear reader!


	8. Attachment Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor and Yuuri go on a date, and an unexpected guest arrives in France.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Whoops?
> 
> This chapter ended up being fluffier than I originally intended. Consider it the calm before the storm... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“For God’s sake, Vitya, would you pay attention for once in your damned life?” Yakov snapped, his voice echoing across the rink and breaking the relative quiet of the early evening.“You only have one more day of practice before we need to leave for France.”

Viktor sighed quietly, turning to face his coach.“I am paying attention,” he replied.

Yakov scowled.“Get your head out of the clouds,” he ordered.“I don’t want to see you staring dreamily off into the distance one more time, or so help me-”

“Alright, I get it,” Viktor said, holding up a hand and rolling his eyes.Yakov had been crabby ever since getting out of the hospital a few days after Skate America.Viktor suspected it had something to do with the fact that everyone in the rink was a bit off- Georgi seemed jumpier even than usual, Mila had stopped bugging Yuri for fear of hiking up Yakov’s blood pressure, and Yuri had been absolutely insufferable since winning in Milwaukee, just edging out Phichit and Seung-gil for gold.

“I bet he’s thinking about his boyfriend,” Yuri sneered, right on cue.“Which is fine, because if he’s distracted that means I can win in France.”

Viktor rolled his eyes.He would be competing in France against Yuri, along with other skaters like Georgi, and Yuki Nakamura.Like it or not, Yuri Plisetsky would have to fight hard to medal, and Viktor had yet to be convinced it was a fight the teenager could win.

“I’ll win the Grand Prix Final, too, while you losers are distracted,” Yuri added smugly, and Viktor couldn’t stifle his snort.Yakov more or less ignored his youngest skater’s posturing, but his attention seemed to snag on the first part of Yuri’s sentence.

“Boyfriend?” he echoed.“Vitya, what is he talking about?”

“It’s nothing,” Viktor said quickly, and was surprised to feel a hot blush on his face.Yakov raised a doubtful eyebrow, and Viktor added, “Just a guy I met at Skate America.”

Yakov frowned.“But then why would Yura be calling him- Vitya, what have I told you about going out with strange men?You’re not allowed to do that.”

Viktor frowned slightly, gaze growing cold.“With all due respect, Yakov,” he said without a shred of respect in his voice, “I can make my own choices, thank you.”

“Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you, foolish man?” Yakov snapped.

Viktor recoiled a little in surprise at the anger in his coach’s voice and then regained his composure enough to say, “He’s completely harmless, Yakov, I promise.I’m not in danger.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Yakov grumbled.“I thought I made it clear to you that you weren’t to endanger yourself anymore by randomly bedding strangers.”

“OK, first,” Viktor said, irritation flaring.“I didn’t sleep with him. He wasn’t comfortable with that, and I would never push someone into sex if they didn’t want it.Second, we went out to dinner in a very public restaurant, it’s not like we hung around in dark alleys together.Besides, he’s a figure skater too, I’ll be seeing him again in France.”

“He’s… a figure skater,” Yakov repeated with an odd note in his voice.“What did you say his name is?”

Viktor rolled his eyes.“I didn’t,” he said.“But his name is Yuki Nakamura.He skates for Japan.”He twisted his body into an absent spin, missing the utter shock that flashed across Yakov’s face before he could control his reaction.

“Oi, what’s with the face?” Yuri said, squinting at Yakov.

Viktor turned back to see Yakov scowl at the teenager.“Nothing.”

“What, have you heard of Yuki before?” Viktor asked, and Yakov reluctantly nodded.

“He’s Celestino’s new student,” the old man answered gruffly.“Celestino mentioned him last time we talked.Viktor, I don’t think you should be going out with him, isn’t he rather young?”

“He’s twenty one,” Viktor argued, brow furrowing.He hadn’t really thought about the age difference between himself and Yuki, to be honest.

“That’s a pretty big age difference, Vitya,” Georgi said, interrupting his practice to skate over and join the conversation.“Are you sure it’s a good idea to date this kid?”He avoided Viktor’s eyes, absently studying the scrapes in the ice from his skates.

Viktor huffed out a small, annoyed breath.“I don’t think it’s an issue,” he said.“He’s an adult, not a kid, and I… I don’t think I forced him into anything.”

“You do have a rather strong personality” Georgi said softly.He chewed on his lip, raked his fingers through his sweaty hair.“It might not be a good idea to start anything with this kid.For your own good, and his.”

Viktor very carefully controlled his expression, patience wearing thin.“I’m done with practice for today,” he said, skating to the edge of the rink and grabbing his skate guards.“It’s clear I’m not going to get anything else done.I’ll be in by seven tomorrow.”

Yakov sighed quietly, but let him pass.“Eat something before you arrive,” he reminded, but didn’t protest as Viktor made his way to the locker room to change before heading home for a much needed shower.He only noticed that Georgi had followed him when someone caught the locker room door as it swung shut behind him.

“Viktor,” Georgi said quietly as Viktor crossed the room and spun the lock on his locker.“I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to-”

“I don’t think I asked for relationship advice from the man who’s dedicating a season to the fact that his girlfriend cheated on and then dumped him,” Viktor said in a sharp, cold voice, his patience at its end.He paused, sickening guilt flooding his insides as soon as the words left his lips, and turned in time to see the angry and shattered expression on Georgi’s face.“I’m so sorry,” Viktor said quietly, abandoning his attempts to get his locker open for the time being.“That was too far.”

Georgi laughed humorlessly, brokenly.“I guess you have a point,” he said, shuffling his feet and mussing up his hair again.“I guess I’m not the best person to give relationship advice.”“Gosha-” Viktor started helplessly.

Georgi just shook his head.“Vitya, forget about it,” he said firmly, eyes fixed on Viktor’s face.Viktor bit his lip, avoiding his friend’s eyes, but decided to drop it.He could tell Georgi wasn’t really in the mood for an argument, despite his flash of anger.Georgi waited another moment in silence, and then said in a low voice, “It’s getting better.”He rubbed both hands over his face, exhaled slow and soft, and then asked in a tight, falsely cheerful voice, “What are you going to do, then?About Nakamura?”

Viktor pressed his lips together, turned his back to open his locker.“I don’t know,” he admitted, distracted with finding this shoes.There was a quiet shuffling sound behind him, and suddenly Viktor sensed that Georgi was very, very close, not quite touching.Viktor paused, and then Georgi was by his side a few lockers down, fiddling with his own lock.

“Are you going home?” Viktor asked, and Georgi nodded.

“Too distracted to practice,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.“I have things I need to do.”

Viktor paused, arrested by something in his tone, and then said quietly, “Georgi, please don’t go home and call Anya.” 

Georgi’s eyes snapped up.“What?” he blurted, something like fear in his eyes.

“Listen, I know you still call her, but it’s just making it harder to let go,” Viktor said, and then shook his head, turning away.“Forget about it.I’m not exactly one to be giving relationship advice, either.”He pulled off his shirt to change, flushed.

Georgi sighed, and then said abruptly, “I’m going to walk you home, alright?”

Viktor glanced up.“Excuse me?”

Georgi frowned at him.“Like it or not, I know how you are when you get like this,” he said.“Yakov would have both of our heads if he finds out you wandered around St. Petersburg for hours and I knew about it.”

Viktor straightened, giving him a slightly detached glare.“I’m an adult,” he said firmly.“I’m perfectly capable of walking home on my own, thank you very much.”

Georgi rolled his eyes.“I know you’re an adult,” he said.“I pay attention to how many times Yura calls you an old man.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, amusement overpowering his irritation for the time being.“You’re not exactly one to talk, asshole,” he said.

Georgi chuckled, albeit a little weakly.“Alright, old man,” he said.

Viktor rolled his eyes, and then closed his locker and slung his bag over his shoulder.“Are you coming or not?” he said, and Georgi quickly closed his own locker before following Viktor out.

“Are you running away in fear?” Yuri shouted from all the way across the rink, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.“Are you so afraid of my medal-winning programs?”

Viktor and Georgi glanced at each other.Viktor’s lips twitched.Georgi just raised an eyebrow, looking incredibly skeptical.

“Yes, Yura, that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Viktor replied, hiking his bag a little further to get a better grip.“We’re utterly terrified of you, you’ve found out our secret.”

Yuri nodded in satisfaction.“Good,” he said.“You should be.”Viktor very carefully kept a straight face, waved to Yakov, and then left with Georgi.As soon as the two of them were outside, Georgi started to laugh.

“He’s certainly not lacking in confidence,” Georgi chuckled, falling into step with Viktor.

Viktor made a small snorting noise.“I think he’s overcompensating,” he said.“As arrogant as it sounds, he doesn’t really stand a chance against me if I’m skating my best, and you’re also fairly serious competition.I think he knows that his chances of medalling in France are a lot smaller than they were in America, and as a result he’s acting as confident as possible to cover up his underlying feelings of internalized inferiority.”

Georgi glanced sideways at him, surprised.“I didn’t know you were such a psychologist,” he said.

“He’s not particularly difficult to read, honestly,” Viktor said with a tiny shrug, and then smiled.“It is amusing, though, watching him try to intimidate us.”

Georgi smiled.“Very true.” 

They fell silent, and Viktor could sense the lingering awkwardness hanging between them like a low cloud, but he could tell Georgi didn’t really want to talk about what had happened in the ice rink locker room.Viktor was willing to let it go, even though he knew he would worry about Georgi possibly hating him for hours later.

They reached Viktor’s apartment in complete silence, and Georgi accompanied Viktor upstairs.“Um… do you want to come in for a drink or something?” Viktor offered a little awkwardly, fiddling with the key to his apartment.

Georgi grunted.“By drink I hope you mean alcohol,” he muttered.

Viktor smiled as his apartment door finally opened.“Of course,” he said.“Wine or vodka?I’m not sure I have anything else.”

“The stronger the better,” Georgi muttered, following Viktor in and toeing off his shoes.He hesitated a moment, and then took off his jacket and fumbled to hang it up as Viktor wandered into the kitchen in search of alcohol.Georgi joined him a moment later, and took the glass of wine Viktor offered him.

“Probably shouldn’t walk home drunk,” Viktor said with a shrug.

Georgi took the glass with a small, rueful smile.“Thanks.”

They drank in silence, Viktor leaning against the counter and Georgi slumped against the doorframe, until Georgi’s phone suddenly chimed in his pocket.Viktor raised a curious eyebrow as Georgi pulled it out and frowned down at the screen.

“Sorry, I have to go,” he said after a minute, brows drawn.Viktor gave him a curious glance, and Georgi huffed a sigh, blushing a little.“My mom wants me to call her before we leave for France,” he replied.

Viktor chuckled.“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He followed Georgi out of the kitchen and lingered off to the side as the other man bent down to slip on his shoes and pull on his coat.Viktor’s eyes flicked back up, but before he could say anything, wish Georgi a good night, his gaze caught on something white lying on the floor by the door.

“What’s that?” he muttered, and Georgi followed his glance, stepping forward and picking up a plain white envelope from the floor by the door.

“There’s… there’s no postmark,” Georgi muttered, turning the envelope over in his hands.He paled slightly, hands trembling, and then slowly looked up at Viktor.“Just… just like… You don’t think…”

Viktor swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, tongue suddenly stuck to the roof of his mouth.“God, if it is that would mean-” _That would mean they were here while we were here.That they were here while we were standing in the kitchen with the front door unlocked, drinking and not paying attention to any sort of possible danger._

Viktor tried not to let his hands shake as he reached out and plucked the envelope from Georgi’s tight grip, deftly sliding one finger under the flap and tearing it open.He took a deep breath, steadied himself, and then pulled out a plain white piece of card stock with a single sentence typed in black ink.

Georgi stared at him, was still staring when Viktor looked up at him, heart pounding in his throat and sweat beading on his forehead.“What does it say?” Georgi whispered, voice raw and terrified.

Viktor swallowed around the lump in his throat, and then lowered his eyes to the note in his hand before reading in a hoarse voice that didn’t sound quite like his own, “We look forward to seeing you in Marseille, Mr. Nikiforov.”

***

Viktor was, for all intents and purposes, completely exhausted.For whatever reason Yakov had gotten them a flight out of St. Petersburg at a miserable four o’clock in the morning, and paired with a night spent in bed worrying about the people who seemed to want to get him out of the picture, Viktor hadn’t gotten much sleep. It was because of this exhaustion that he was quickly losing patience as Yuri Plisetsky, his unwilling roommate for the event, banged around the room opening drawers and closets and grumbling under his breath.

“Would you stop that?” Viktor finally sighed, burying his face in his hands as he collapsed backwards on one of the beds.

Yuri paused in opening the bathroom door, and scowled.“Stop what?”

Viktor massaged his temples in an effort to ward off the oncoming headache.“Stop make so much noise,” he complained.

Yuri closed the bathroom door with more force than necessary, and then flopped down on his own bed.“This is so stupid,” he complained.“I don’t see why we have to share a room.This is _so_ stupid.”He sat up straight, and pointed an accusing finger at Viktor.“I bet this is your fault,” he snapped.“I bet Yakov put me in with you so you couldn’t bring someone to bed during the competition.”

Viktor sighed quietly.Yuri was right, of course.Yakov had told him as much, before the plane to France had even taken off when Viktor was too sleepy and befuddled to really argue.But if he gave up any ground at all, Yuri would never let him forget it.“I think this is your fault,” Viktor replied.“It makes sense that Yakov wouldn’t want a young boy like you all alone in a strange city.”

Yuri growled, and threw a pillow at his head.“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, and then fell backwards again.“At least I don’t have to share with Yakov.”

“He snores very loudly,” Viktor agreed, thoughts flashing for a moment to some sleepless nights in his Junior days before he had convinced his coach to let him get a separate room.“I pity Georgi.”

“Georgi has his own room,” Yuri grumbled, and Viktor glanced over.

“What?”

Yuri gave him an annoyed look.“Weren’t you listening during the layover in Paris?” he said.Viktor grunted.He had been trying to catch a few hours of sleep on an uncomfortable airport chair in Paris, not that Yuri seemed to care.

“Yakov let Georgi get his own room on the understanding that he would pay for it himself,” Yuri said in annoyance, but Viktor caught the clear tinge of jealousy to his words.

“Hmph,” Viktor huffed, slinging one arm over his face dramatically.“What a time for Georgi to decide not to be a cheapskate.”

Yuri shrugged.“I think he got a new sponsor,” he replied.

Viktor frowned curiously.“Really?” he asked.“Who?”

Yuri just shrugged, fumbling for his phone in his backpack.“I’m calling my grandfather to tell him I got here safely,” he told Viktor with a scowl that dared the man to tease him.“Go away.”

“Exiled by a teenager,” Viktor sighed mournfully, but got off his bed and wandered towards the door, grabbing his shoes on the way.Maybe he would go raid Georgi’s mini-fridge for alcohol; the fact that it was one in the afternoon was irrelevant.

As soon as he left the hotel room, however, Viktor spotted a familiar head of hair a few doors down the hall, standing in front of a door and absently fumbling with the lock.“Yuki?” Viktor said questioningly, and the Japanese man looked up at the sound of his name, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose a little and his hair ruffled cutely.Yuki smiled a little baffled, but welcoming, as Viktor walked down the hall towards him.

“It’s good to see you again!” Viktor said happily, giving Yuki a wide, genuine smile.

Yuki smiled back a little uncertainly, dark eyes curiously fixed on Viktor’s face.“You remember who I am?” he said in a soft voice.

Viktor gave him a curious look.“Of course I do,” he replied.“Why wouldn’t I?”

Yuki blinked, and then gave him a little shrug.“Most people don’t find me very memorable.”

Viktor tilted his head a little.“Why do you say that?” he said, and then stepped a little closer and gave Yuki a small smile.“I find you _very_ memorable.”

Yuki looked like he was trying very hard to figure out of Viktor was flirting or not.He seemed to settle on yes, and blushed up to the tips of his ears.“It’s good to see you too,” he said shyly, focusing more on kicking at the carpeted floor with one foot than on maintaining eye contact with Viktor.“What time did you arrive?”

“Oh, we’ve only been here fifteen minutes or so,” Viktor chuckled.“That’s how long it took Yura to kick me out.”

Yuki frowned in confusion.“You’re sharing with him again?” he said, and then blushed again.“Ah, I’m sorry.I’m just surprised your coach didn’t let his star skater have a room to himself.”

Viktor chuckled.“It’s alright,” he promised.“Yakov thinks that if I’m sharing with Yura, I’m less likely to fool around during the competition.”

Yuki cocked his head curiously.“Fool around?What do you-”His eyes suddenly widened.“Oh!Oh.Oh.Yes, your coach would probably be right.I would, um.I would hope?”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“I wouldn’t kick Yura out just so I could sleep with someone,” he said.“Besides, I wouldn’t do anything like that during a competition.Only after.”He winked, enjoying the pink flush that spread across Yuki’s cheeks.Viktor gave him a winning smile.“By the way, please extend my congratulations to Phichit,” he said.The Thai man had won silver in America, and then another silver in China, giving him a good shot at the Grand Prix Final.

“I’ll tell him,” Yuki promised, and then absently toyed with the hem of his sweatshirt as he added, “He was thrilled.He really wants to compete against me.”He paused, biting his lip, but Viktor could read the uncertainty in that pause.

“I have no doubt that you’ll make it as well,” he told Yuki.“Not if you skate like i saw you do in practice in America.You’re better than you seem to think you are.”

Yuki blushed again, and he gave Viktor a tiny smile.“Thank you,” he mumbled, and then straightened his posture a little and ran his fingers through his hair.

“What time did your plane get in?” Viktor asked curiously, leaning against the wall next to Yuki’s door in a way he knew made his biceps look good.

Yuki unconsciously licked his lips, and then looked up to meet Viktor’s eyes.“We have a red eye from Detroit,” he said, and then grimaced.“We left at seven last night.”

Viktor winced sympathetically, a small twinge of guilt in his chest when he noticed for the first time the dark circled under his eyes.“I’m sorry,” he said.“I’ve been bothering you, I’m sure you want a nap.”

Yuki smiled.“I’m trying not to, I know it will make things worse,” he said.“Ciao Ciao doesn’t want me to skate because he’s convinced I’ll fall asleep on the ice- I only did that once, and phichit woke me up right away, I promise it wouldn’t happen here- but I’m trying to make it to six or seven tonight before going to sleep so I don’t fuck up my sleep schedule more than necessary.So I… kind of welcome the distraction?”

Viktor gave him a wide smile.“Thanks, Yuki,” he teased.“If you want a distraction, would you like to get coffee with me?”

Yuki bit his lip, but gave a little half-shrug half-nod.“Sure, I would like that,” he replied, and then looked up at Viktor in disbelief.“You… you really want to spend time with me?”

Viktor nodded quickly.“Of course,” he said, and then added sincerely, “I know you don’t believe it, but I do find you pleasant to be around.I would be delighted if you would let me take you out.”

Yuki’s cheeks pinked again, but he nodded, eyes bright.“Let me get my wallet and phone,” he said.

Viktor nodded.“I should probably grab my things too,” he laughed.“I’ll meet you back in a minute or two?”

Yuki nodded again, and unlocked his hotel room.“Thank you,” he said shyly, and Viktor gave him a wide grin.

“It’s my pleasure,” he promised, and then turned back down the hall and jiggled the hotel room doorknob before realizing that he had forgotten his key and, stupidly, would have to rely on Yuri to let him in.Viktor sighed, leaning his forehead against the grainy wood of the door.It seemed like he would be going on his date without a wallet or phone.

The door opened suddenly and Viktor stumbled forwards before catching himself on the doorframe.“For a figure skater, you’re pretty fucking clumsy, old man,” Yuri said snidely before padding back across the room to flop on the bed.

“Yurotchka,” Yuri’s grandfather chided from the phone, loud enough that Viktor could just make out what he was saying.“Be nice to your poor friend.”

Yuri huffed, but mumbled something that almost sounded like an affirmative.Viktor let the door close behind him, and crossed the room to where one of his suitcases was leaning against the wall, and eased it down to rest on the floor.“How did you know to let me in?” he asked as he rooted through his luggage, looking for an outfit to replace his grungy, airplane-scented clothes that would impress Yuki.

Yuri grunted, putting one hand over the speaker of his phone for a second.“First of all, I could hear you flirting down the hall,” he said, making a face.“And then I heard a thump.Did you really think you could break down the door with your forehead?I know it’s big, but I didn’t realize it was made of steel.” Viktor rolled his eyes, ignoring his younger rink mate.Yuri snickered, and then went back to his quiet conversation with his grandfather.

Viktor finally found clothes that weren’t horrible, and then grabbed his bag of toiletries and went into the bathroom.He changed quickly, brushed his teeth and hair, put on a little cologne so he didn’t smell quite so much of disgusting, recycled air, and grabbed his phone and wallet with a wave at Yuri.

Yuri flipped him off, and then shouted at his back, “Have fun on your date, loser!”

Viktor chuckled, quietly closing the door behind him, but when he looked up after sliding his wallet in his pocket he found Georgi poking his head out of the door across the hall.“Why is Yura screaming?” he asked, and then eyed Viktor suspiciously.“Where are you going?”

Viktor smiled angelically.“Out,” he replied.“Yura’s on the phone with his grandfather, and Yakov is next door.He’ll be fine.”

Georgi raised an eyebrow, and then his eyes widened with realization.“You’re going on a date with Nakamura, aren’t you?” he said.

Viktor smiled slightly.“As it happens, yes.”

Georgi gave him a curious look.“How come?” he asked.“I know you’re going to take this the wrong way, but generally after you hook up or go out with someone, you don’t really interact with them again for a while.Probably due to deep-seated attachment issues, but I know you don’t like it when I psychoanalyze you.”

Viktor shrugged, ignoring the second part of the sentence.He didn’t have attachment issues.He was fine.Just fine.“I just really like him,” he said, considering his words carefully.“He’s… he’s fun. He’s fun to be around.He’s sweet, and easy to talk to, and I don’t feel as…. as pressured around him.I don’t know.”He grinned.“He’s definitely easy on the eyes, as well.It’s not too often you find someone that good looking on the inside and the outside who’s _also_ single.”

Georgi snorted.“When you put it like that, I suppose.”His lips curled into a small smirk.“Have fun telling Yakov you’re going out despite his express wishes.”

Viktor winced.“Would you be a good friend and tell Yakov for me?” he asked.

Georgi rolled his eyes.“Fine, but let the record show that I did so under duress,” he said.“Yakov’s not going to be happy.”

“Mm, just tell him I blackmailed you or something,” Viktor suggested.

Georgi sorted.“With what?”

Viktor flashed him a grin.“Your deepest, darkest secret,” he said.

Georgi gave him a look.“What secrets,” he said, and then waved a hand.“Whatever.Yes, I’ll tell Yakov for you, coward.Have fun.”His eyes drifted over Viktor’s shoulder, and then he said, “Oh, is this him?”

Viktor glanced behind himself to see Yuki timidly approaching them, looking unreasonably nervous.He had changed his clothes as well, and Viktor took a moment to really appreciate the way his green sweater somehow brought out the unusual, pretty gold flecks in his eyes, and the way his jeans hugged his ass.“Hi, Yuki,” he said, and then glanced at Georgi.“Um, this is my rink mate, Georgi Popovich.Georgi, this is Yuki, my… ah, my friend.”

Yuki studied Georgi curiously, and then gave him a small bow.“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Georgi gave him an equally appraising look before sticking out his hand.“Likewise.”Yuki quickly shook his hand with a slightly nervous smile.“You have a strong grip,” Georgi said in surprise, and Yuki shrugged, something almost mischievous entering his smile.

“A lot of people tell me that.”He pushed his glasses up his nose, and then glanced sideways at Viktor.

Viktor read the cue, and gave Georgi a smile.“I’ll see you later!” he said, and then reached out and laced his fingers together with Yuki’s.“Are you ready to go?”

Yuki blushed looking down at his and Viktor’s interlocked fingers, and then looked back up with a smile.“Yes,” he replied, and then inclined his head in Georgi’s direction.“I look forward to competing against you,” he said.

Georgi nodded, eyes narrowed slightly.“As do I.”He gave Viktor and arch look, a look Viktor ignored as he and Yuki walked hand in hand back down the hall.

Viktor bit his lip, and then said hesitantly, squeezing Yuki’s fingers for a brief second, “Is this alright?”

Yuki looked up at him, smiling.“Viktor, I kissed you the last time we saw each other,” he said with a small laugh in his voice.“Holding hands is just fine.But thank you for asking.”

Viktor swung their hands just a little, a nervous habit.“I… I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, even if it’s something as small as holding hands.”

Yuki stepped a little closer, his shoulder almost brushing Viktor’s, and then squeezed his hand before saying, “I promise, I’m not doing anything I don’t want to.”He looked up at Viktor, something complicated in his eyes.“I… I want this.I do.”

Viktor smiled at him just as they reached the elevator.“I’m glad.” _I do too.I want this, and I don’t even know why._

They waited in comfortable, companionable silence until the elevator chimed, and Viktor held the door open for Yuki.“Do you know anywhere to go?” Yuki asked as they began to descend.

“I can’t remember, to be entirely honest,” Viktor admitted with a chuckle.“I’ve only been to Marseille once for a competition, and it was several years ago.I was just planning to wander until we find somewhere.It should be safe enough.”

Yuki nodded.“That sounds good,” he said.

They stepped out of the elevator when the doors slid open, and in a moment were stepping into the early afternoon sunlight.“It’s a nice day,” Viktor observed as they wandered down the street, and Yuki hummed in agreement.

Viktor did his best not to focus on Yuki’s warm, dry palm against his, but a spark of happiness shot through his chest every time Yuki’s grip twitched or shifted slightly, reminding him that their fingers were still interlaced.He hadn’t done something as simple as holding hands with someone he liked in a very long time.For years, his only romantic contact had been less than a dozen quick hookups at competitions or ice shows, and one relationship back in St. Petersburg that had soured very quickly once Viktor’s ex had realized that he really only wanted to date Viktor Nikiforov™, not Just Viktor.

Maybe Viktor was misreading things, but Yuki didn’t seem like that.Against all odds, he seemed to like Just Viktor, seemed to want to spend time with Just Viktor.Hold hands and walking through a foreign city, without nearly as much pressure to perform as the idol he was… it was really nice.Strange, but nice.

They walked for a while in quiet, companionable silence, and Viktor noticed that Yuki seemed to be getting gradually closer.Viktor turned his head slightly to see Yuki gazing up at him with something almost akin to awe in his eyes.Viktor smiled, just as awed.The other man’s smile was beautiful, and his eyes shone in the sunlight.

“Can I kiss you?” Viktor asked, and Yuki nodded, expression brightening.Viktor looked ahead and then led him down a slightly less busy side street, stopping off to the side and resting one hand on Yuki’s arm.Yuki shifted closer, and then stood up on his tiptoes, the fingers of one hand still tanged with Viktor’s while his other arm came to circle around Viktor’s waist.Viktor met him in a middle, sighing happily into Yuki’s familiar, sweet kiss.It was really nice, to kiss for the sake of kissing, without the intent of going further.

Yuki’s arm around Viktor’s waist tightened slightly, and Viktor brought one hand up to cup the back of Yuki’s neck, fingertips resting in Yuki’s soft hair as they gently, almost cautiously kissed.Viktor pulled back for a moment, breathless, and gazed down at Yuki.The other man was smiling, and after a moment leaned in again.Viktor kissed him back, trying not to smile so wide and mess it up, but after a second Yuki pulled away with a giggle.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked, thumb sweeping over the back of his hand.

Viktor gave him a silly grin.“Why are _you_ smiling?” he returned.

Yuki blushed cutely.“I’m smiling because you’re smiling,” he mumbled.

Viktor kissed his cheek.“I’m happy,” he said, and then hesitated for a long moment before confessing, “I… I haven’t done something like this in a long time.Gone on a date like this, I mean.Most of the time it’s just sex, sometimes dinner if we especially click, and even then I don’t spend the night with people very often.I really… I really like this.It’s fun.”

Yuki’s blush intensified, and he pressed his face against Viktor’s shoulder before mumbling in a muffled voice, “I like this too.”

Viktor lifted his chin with one hand and gave him another kiss, this one smacking and dramatic.“Good!I’m glad we’re both having fun.”

Yuki kissed him, slow and soft, and then stepped back just slightly so their noses were brushing as he whispered, “Not that I’m not having fun kissing, but I’m afraid I’m going to fall asleep in your arms.Coffee?”

“Absolutely,” Viktor laughed.He pecked Yuki on the lips, and then stepped back, interlacing their hands again.“Keep an eye out.”

He and Yuki walked down the street again, and it was a few minutes before Yuki squeezed Viktor’s fingers slightly, and then pointed across the street.“There’s a coffee shop, if you want.”Viktor smiled, following Yuki’s lead.They entered the coffee shop, and joined the end of the short line.

“What are you going to get?” Viktor asked with a smile.

Yuki considered that.“Something with as much caffeine as possible,” he replied.

Viktor smiled.“Sounds pretty good to me.”

They reaches the front of the line, and Viktor politely waited for his date to order.Yuki hesitated, biting his lip and fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, and then said in a low voice, “I, um... do you speak any French?”

Viktor smiled.“I do, yes,” he said.“Would you like me to translate, or just order for you?”

Yuki gave him a small, embarrassed smile.“Please just order for me, if that's alright,” he said, and then shrugged.“It would be quicker.”

Viktor nodded.“Of course.Lots of caffeine?”

Yuki nodded, and gave Viktor a small, private smile.“Thank you.”

Viktor was sure he was blushing as he stepped up to the counter, if the barista’s smirk was anything to go by.“Good afternoon,” Viktor said with a pleasant smile.“Can I have two espressos please?”

The barista nodded.“Anything else?” he mumbled, and it took Viktor a moment to untangle his accent.“Ah…” He turned to Yuki.“Do you want anything else?”

Yuki hungrily eyed the pastries in a glass case by the counter, but shook his head.“I probably shouldn’t, but thank you,” he said.

Viktor turned back to the barista and pointed to a pastry at random that looked good.“Two of those, please.”The barista nodded, looking bored, and after paying Viktor gently pulled Yuki aside so the next person could order.

“I’ll pay you back,” Yuki said anxiously, fumbling for his wallet, but he froze when Viktor laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.“I was the one who asked you out.We can settle up later if it’s really going to bother you.”

Yuki paused, and then nodded.“Thank you,” he said.

Viktor laughed.“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he said.“I’m enjoying this just as much as you are, Yuki.”He glanced out over the busy cafe, and suggested, “Do you want to find a table, or walk?”

Yuki bit his lip.“I think there’s a park nearby,” he said tentatively.

Viktor smiled.“That sounds perfect,” he said.

They waited together until their drinks were ready, and then Viktor went up to the counter to get them.When Yuki saw the pastries he blushed, but just smiled and didn’t say anything.The two walked hand in hand until they found the park Yuki had mentioned, and settled in a patch of sunlight in a reasonably quiet part of the park.Viktor handed Yuki his drink and snack with a smile, and then took a sip of his own coffee.At his side, Yuki sighed happily, and when Viktor glanced over he was sipping his espresso with a smile on his face.

“Good?” Viktor asked, and Yuki nodded happily.“Very,” he replied.Viktor bit his lip, and then carefully slid an arm around Yuki’s waist.Yuki smiled and leaned against his chest, happily sipping his coffee.

That sat like that for long enough for Viktor to finish his coffee and for Yuki to nibble through half of his pastry before the Japanese man said quietly, “How is your dog doing?”

Viktor blinked in surprise before remembering that Phichit had described Yuki as a bit of a fan.“She’s doing well,” he said, and then sighed quietly.“She’s getting older.I really want to be able to spend more time with her.”He looked down at Yuki, who was carefully tearing off bite-sized pieces from his pastry.“Have you ever had a pet?”

“I have a dog as well,” Yuki admitted.He hesitated, as if weighing his words, and then added, “He’s a toy poodle.Named Vicchan.He lives with my parents back in Japan.I wish I could see him more often.”

“Do you have any pictures?” Viktor asked eagerly, brightening.Yuki smiled, and pulled his phone out of his pocket, tilting the screen so Viktor could see the photo of a small, fluffy brown poodle on the home screen.

“He’s adorable!” Viktor gasped.

Yuki smiled a little wider as he unlocked the phone and opened his photo album to a folder labeled in Japanese that turned out to be filled with pictures of his poodle.“My sister sends me pictures all the time,” Yuki said shyly.“I save them all.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Viktor mumbled absently and then cooed at a remarkably cute picture of Vicchan going cross-eyed as he tried to stare at a cherry blossom petal balanced on the tip of his nose.

Yuki stiffened slightly, and then said in a halting voice, “Yes, she- she likes to stay out of the public eye.She’s very… private?I don’t get interviewed a lot, but when I do she doesn’t like me to mention her.”

“Ah, I understand,” Viktor murmured.

Yuki looked him over appraisingly, and then asked, “Do you have any pictures of your poodle?”

Viktor gave him a wide grin.“Of course!” he exclaimed, pulling out his own phone and handing it unlocked to Yuki.“That’s what most of my pictures are now, these days,” he added as Yuki started looking through his photos of Makkachin with a smile.

They shared photos of their dogs with each other for a while, and then talked for a while longer, until it started to get dark out and Yuki’s smothered yawns got more frequent.

“Maybe we should go back to the hotel,” Viktor said with a smile, getting to his feet and offering Yuki a hand.

Yuki took it, letting Viktor heave him up, and then nodded.“I’m ready for bed,” he said sheepishly.

The walk back to the hotel was silent, and Viktor could tell Yuki was flagging by the way his feet dragged a little and he seemed a little dazed, so he was surprised when they got back to their hallway and Yuki kissed him with more energy and enthusiasm than expected.Viktor kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, and laughed when they parted.“I’ll see you in practice tomorrow?” he asked.

Yuki nodded a little shyly, and then fiddled with the hem of his sweater before saying, “Um.Thank you.I had a lot of fun.”

“So did I,” Viktor replied, and gave Yuki a hopeful smile.“Maybe we can do it again sometime?”

Yuki smiled back.“I’d like that a lot.”

Viktor gave him one last sweet, quick kiss.“Sleep well,” he said.

Yuki smiled.“You too.I’ll see you tomorrow.”He turned away, looking for the key to his room, and Viktor took that as his cue to leave.

“How was the date?” Yuri asked crabbily as soon as Viktor came back into the hotel room.

Viktor toed off his shoes with an enormous smile on his face before sitting down on his bed.“Really, really great,” he replied, and then sighed dreamily.“I like him a lot.”

“No shit,” Yuri said dryly.He sat up against the headboard of his bed and actually set down his phone for a moment.“Are you and Katsudon actually, like… serious, or whatever?”

Viktor considered that.“No, I don’t think so,” he finally decided on, and then added, “Not that I would mind.I wouldn’t mind at all.Yuki is amazing.”He smiled, and apparently he looked so besotted that Yuri felt the need to gag theatrically.

“Oh my god, you’re getting attached,” he said incredulously.“Viktor, what the literal fuck.”

Viktor frowned.“That’s a surprisingly sincere negative reaction, coming from you,” he said.“Not that I asked, mind.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.“Viktor, you’re going to get too attached to this dude and then when it doesn’t work out you’re going to be all mopey and depressed and shit.It happened last time.”

Viktor scowled at him.“You were five years old.”

“I was twelve, and even if I was five I would be able to tell when you’re being as much of an asshole as Georgi is on a daily basis,” Yuri snapped, but there was something almost like concern warring with disgust in his expression.Disgust seemed to win out for the moment, and the teenager huffed and threw a pillow hard at Viktor’s head before saying, “You get attached to quickly.Katsudon is going to break your heart, watch.It’s not going to work.”

Viktor frowned, refusing to let the fear and doubt curling in his stomach eat away at his affections for Yuki.“Maybe it won’t work out,” he admitted in a low, serious voice.“But I want them to.I’m going to try.If it’s not meant to be, I guess it’s not meant to be, but… there’s something different about him.I really like him.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow.“If you say so,” he said doubtfully.“Just don’t come crying to me when everything goes to shit.”

Viktor sighed.“That’s not going to happen,” he insisted tiredly, more to convince himself than anything.“Everything will be fine.”

***

The first thing Yuuri noticed when he opened the door to his hotel room was the dim shadow sitting in the middle of his bed, facing him.

Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise.He didn’t have time to leave the door had already closed and locked behind him.Whoever was in his room would be able to see his silhouette against the light from the hallway, and he was sure they were looking right at him.

Yuuri scrabbled for the knife he had stuffed in his pocket on a whim before he and Viktor had decided to wander around a foreign city alone, and held it defensively out in front of him before flicking on the lights.

“Hi, Yuuri-san!” Minami chirped happily, jumping off his perch settled on Yuuri’s bed, and then his eyes flicked to the knife in Yuuri’s hand.

“How did you even get in here?” Yuuri said suspiciously.

Minami gave him a bright grin.“You know me, I’m great at getting into places I don’t belong,” he replied.Yuuri shrugged.He had to give Minami that, it was true.Paired with his innocent, youthful face, the young Interpol agent’s ability to get into restricted and locked areas made him an excellent information gatherer.

“This is not exactly the warm welcome I had hoped for,” Minami said with a smile, but his eyes were still on the knife.

Yuuri coughed, and then set the knife to the side before taking off his shoes.“What are you doing here?” he asked, and then narrowed his eyes at his friend.“Wait, did Minako send you?”

Minami chuckled.“No, I’m here on my own initiative,” he replied.“Well, she did give me a pretty extensive list of questions to ask you, which can wait until later, but I’m really here because I wanted to watch you skate.”

Yuuri frowned slightly as he padded across the room to where his friend was standing.“You’ve seen me skate back in Japan,” he pointed out.

Minami made a face that was almost a pout.“It’s different!” he exclaimed.“This is in a competition!”He gave an intentionally exaggerated squeal of excitement and looked up at Yuuri with starry eyes.“I’m friends with someone famous!”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.“That’s going a little far.”

Minami gave him a solemn look.“Yuuri, if you had kept skating after Juniors, I might be friends with a famous skater,” he said gravely, eyes shining.

Yuuri snorted, passing Minami to safely tuck the knife in the drawer by his bed.“I wouldn’t say that.We met through Interpol, there’s no guarantee we’d have met otherwise.And I’m not that big of a deal compared to the other skaters here.”

“You do know you’re going to be on TV, right?” Minami said, and then winced.“Right.Sorry.That probably doesn’t help with your nerves.”

Yuuri shrugged.“It’s fine,” he said, and then sat on the bed.

Minami sat across from him, attentive.“It’s… it’s better than I expected,” Yuuri said slowly.“My nerves, I mean.It’s bigger than just me.Someone else’s life depends on how I perform, and somehow that helped?”

Minami grinned.“If you say so,” he said, and then leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands.“By the way… how are things on the Viktor front?Has he flirted any more with you?”

Yuuri blushed.He seriously regretted mentioning that Viktor had flirted with him back in America.“We actually… went out on a few dates?” Yuuri squeaked.

Minami’s eyes widened, and he almost fell off the bed in surprise.“Wait, actually?” he shouted.“Like a date date?A romantic date?Or a platonic just-bros-being-bros date?”

“A what now?” Yuuri laughed.

Minami waved a dismissive hand.“I saw it in a kdrama,” he said.“Or maybe an American sitcom.Whatever.Are you two dating?Did you kiss?Did you-”

Yuuri held up a hand with a small, slightly nervous smile.“We’re not dating,” he said.“It’s a casual thing, I think.Um… I think I amuse him?Or something?For whatever weird reason he finds me interesting?” 

Minami widened his eyes, dyed fringe falling over his eyes.“You’re very interesting, Yuuri-san,” he said earnestly.

Yuuri grinned.“You’re my friend, of course you’d say that.”

Minami stuck out his tongue.“Clearly Viktor agrees if he wants to date you and make out with you,” he teased.

Yuuri covered his face with his hands a groaned.“Oh my god, Minami-kun,” he complained.

Minami snickered, and then sobered.“I hate to be a buzzkill,” he said nervously.“I definitely support whatever relationship the two of you have going on, and you wouldn’t believe how much I already ship it, but the higher-ups at Interpol might not agree.I know Minako doesn’t care, she thinks the fact that Viktor is flirting with you just as amusing and sweet as I do, but people who don’t know you might think it’s… a conflict of interest?”

Yuuri winced.He had already slipped once today- the real Yuki didn’t have a sister- but for some reason he wanted to take the chance.Yuuri liked Viktor.A lot.He was fun to be around, and sweet, and attentive, and clearly very intelligent, and _god_ those _biceps_ -

“I’ll make it work,” Yuuri said resolutely.He gave Minami a nervous smile.“After all, I still have a job even after that fuck up in Shanghai, I must be somewhat trustworthy.”

“I’ll side with you,” Minami promised, and then added somberly, “I just hope this works out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minami learned conversational english from sitcoms and fanfiction, and you cannot convince me otherwise
> 
> Yeah, so the short programs were originally supposed to be in this chapter, but then Viktor and Yuuri decided to go on a date and then Minami showed up and 8k later what even is a plan anymore
> 
> When will the next chapter be? Your guess is as good as mine ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I have exams coming up, and it's unclear how much writing vs. studying time there will be, so I'm going to go with February 6th at the absolute latest. I want to have it before then, but honestly... I just don't know. Thanks for understanding! Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	9. Performance Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which skaters skate, and someone is attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look at these quality chapter summaries. I have truly outdone myself.
> 
> "February 6th at the absolute latest" she said. HA. Well I guess a day late isn't horrible. The good news is that I'm already more than halfway through Chapter 10 (which is already longer than this chapter and I still haven't gotten to two of the plot points I need to end it whoops). This one is a little boring, so just bear with me here, I guess.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: I'm gonna put it here, since it's literally the last paragraph of the chapter. A character is briefly depicted getting mugged (this is where the major character injury tag comes into play).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Still jet-lagged, Yuuri overslept on the morning of the short program.

What finally woke him up was an insistent chiming next to his left ear. Yuuri let out a muffled groan into his pillow and then fumbled for his phone by his bedside before squinting blindly at the screen in an attempt to read the blurry text notifications displayed there. Yuuri exhaled slowly, and snatched his glasses, shoving them on his face, before unlocking his phone.

Celestino had texted him, [There’s a young man trying to get into your room. Is that a problem?]

Yuuri frowned. [What??] he messaged back.

Celestino sent a picture, blurry around the edges and clearly taken through the peephole of his room across the hall, of the back of Minami’s head.

[Yeah it’s fine], Yuuri texted back, and then with a groan rolled out of bed and padded across the room to open the door. Minami looked up in surprise and then grinned. “Hey,” he said.

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “Why are you trying to break into my room?”

Minami offered him a cheeky grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice in five minutes?” he asked.

Yuuri winced, glancing over his shoulder at the clock next to his bed. “Whoops.” He waved across the hall to Celestino and then beckoned Minami inside. “I guess I overslept,” Yuuri mumbled, rummaging through his suitcase for clothes. “I don’t know why Celestino didn’t try to come and wake me up.”

Minami just shrugged. “Maybe he thought you needed the sleep?” he suggested.

Yuuri sighed. “I’ll be right back,” he said, gathering his warm-up clothes into his arms and going into the bathroom. When he came back out after changing, Minami was sprawled out on his bed with his phone out, playing some sort of game if the sounds coming from it were anything to go by. “Not that I don’t like spending time you with you,” Yuuri said, tucking his pajamas back in his suitcase. “But what are you doing here?”

“Oh, right,” Minami said, sitting up and shutting off his phone. “I’m coming to the short programs later, but before that, I was just going to explore the city, get a feel for things in case of an emergency. Is there anything you need help with?”

Yuuri bit his lip. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’m going to do my best to keep an eye on Viktor, but maybe just… stay in the city? In case I really need backup?”

Minami nodded. “Sounds good, Yuuri-san.” He cocked his head. “Do you think there’s going to be an emergency?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Yuuri sighed. “I haven’t heard anything from Coach Feltsman since Skate America, and of course Viktor has no idea that I know he’s being threatened. And if one of the people in on this whole thing is really another ice skater, there’s no guarantee that they’re even in this competition.” He sighed heavily. “I wish I had more information.”

“So the most recently Viktor’s been threatened was before Skate America?” Minami said hopefully. “Maybe the people gave up.”

Yuuri made a face. “That’s the most recent threat that we know of,” he replied. “But according to Minako, Viktor doesn’t tell his coach about all of the threats, so there might have been a more recent one we don’t know about.”

Minami frowned. “That’s inconvenient,” he muttered, and Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“I know, trust me,” he muttered, and then bent down to pick up his skate bag. “You sure you don’t want to come with me to the rink?”

Minami smiled. “Thanks, but I won’t,” he said. “I think for all intents and purposes, I’ll act as a fan. It will help me fly under the radar, I hope.”

“Yeah, there will probably be plenty of Viktor Nikiforov fans here,” Yuuri agreed.

Minami blinked. “Yuuri, I’m rooting for you,” he said. “I thought that one was pretty obvious.”

Yuuri paused by the door, one hand resting on the doorknob as he turned back to look at his friend. “I don’t think that’s very realistic,” he said.

Minami rolled his eyes. “Fine. Then I’m your friend from Japan who’s also your fan. The cover story doesn’t matter, just know I’ll be at the competition to watch you and to help keep an eye on things.”

“Alright,” Yuuri conceded with a nod. It felt strange to him, that Minami had come to root specifically for him, but he would have to let it go for the time being. He knew conceptually, that his family and friends back in Japan would be watching as well. Yuuri has sworn his family to secrecy before telling them what competitions he would be in, and he had absolutely no doubt that Minako would make a point of watching the whole competition.

“Oh, hey,” Yuuri said as a thought struck him, stepping back from the door. “Didn’t you say that Minako had questions for me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Minami agreed, nodding. “Um, we don’t have to worry about it until the competition is over. Are you leaving right away?”

“I’m flying out in the afternoon the day after the exhibition skate,” Yuuri replied with a shrug. “We’ll figure out a time to talk.”

“I can take you out for drinks to celebrate your gold medal,” Minami said with a cheeky grin.

Yuuri barked out a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’ll be lucky if I medal at all.”

Minami shook his head, sighing. “You should probably go to practice,” he said quietly. “I’ll let you go. See you later?”

“Definitely,” Yuuri confirmed with a nod, and then left with a wave over his shoulder. He found Celestino waiting outside his own hotel room, arms crossed and a worried frown on his face.

“Who is that, exactly?” he asked sternly. “Is there anything i should be worried about?”

Yuuri shook his head slowly, readjusting his grip on his bag. He surreptitiously glanced both ways, and then said in a low voice, “He’s a friend from back home. He, uh, works for the same people?”

Celestino’s eyes widened. “Oh. Any reason why he’s here, or…?”

Yuuri bit his lip. He honestly had no idea how much of his mission Celestino knew about. “I think it’s fine,” he said. “He’s here to support me, and keep an eye out for, um… talented skaters?”

Celestino nodded slowly, and Yuuri prayed that he had been clear enough that his coach could tell what he was talking about. “We should get going,” he said, beckoning, but before they got more than four steps down the hallway a door opened and Viktor and Yuri Plisetsky stepped out of their rooms, locked in a quiet argument. Yuuri thought he heard Celestino sigh quietly when Viktor looked up to see them standing there, and his face lit up.

“Yuki!” he exclaimed happily, breaking off the argument with his teenaged rink mate. His eyes flicked to Celestino. “Good morning, Coach Cialdini.”

Celestino nodded slowly, expression guarded. “Nikiforov.” Yuuri blinked, surprised by the unexpected tension between his coach and his… friend? Kissing partner? Friend with benefits? Dream husband?

“Are you off to practice, Yuki?” Viktor asked with a warm smile, interrupting Yuuri’s spiraling train of thought.

Yuuri glanced down at himself, wearing workout clothes with his sports bag over his shoulder, and then nodded. “Yes. I am, yes.”

“So am I!” Viktor said cheerfully, grin widening. “We should walk together.”

Yuri Plisetsky scowled and elbowed him in the side, and then muttered something in Russian too quietly for Yuuri to hear. Viktor’s grin grew artificial, and he lightly shoved Yuri away. Celestino gave Viktor an appraising look, and then put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “If we’re going, let’s go,” he said.

Viktor fell into step with Yuuri as they walked down the hall, leaving Yuri to walk with Celestino. “How did you sleep last night?” Viktor asked, giving Yuuri a sweet smile.

Yuuri smiled nervously back. “I’m alright. Um, it was alright.”

“Are you nervous for today?” Viktor pressed, looking a little concerned.

Yuuri swallowed hard, trying to quell the sick churning in his stomach. “A little,” he said, and then laughed far too high-pitched.

Viktor gave him a slightly crooked smile. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you skate,” he said almost shyly. “I haven’t seen your free skate, after all.”

Yuuri nodded slowly. “I’m looking forward to seeing you skate as well,” he murmured, ducking his chin.

“Ugh,” Yuri groaned from behind them. “Why the fuck-”

“Plisetsky,” Celestino snapped, and Yuuri looked back at his coach in surprise to see the Italian man frowning at Yuri, who was scowling at the ground and avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Viktor asked, looking suitably impressed. Celestino smiled slightly, but didn’t say anything. Yuri mumbled something in Russian, still scowling furiously as they left the hotel.

The walk to the rink was in relative silence, punctuated by Viktor’s quiet observations about the weather and Yuri’s soft, angry mumbling. Viktor gave Yuuri a wide, brilliant smile when they reached the rink, and held the door open for everyone. “I’ll see you later, I guess,” he said with a small, certain nod.

Yuuri blinked, and then gave him a wobbly, nervous smile back, even as his gut churned with awkward nerves. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The nervousness eating away at Yuuri hadn’t subsided by the time the short programs had started, and as his turn grew nearer and nearer as he watched from a screen in the assigned warm-up area it didn’t get any better. Yuuri was scheduled to perform second to last, with only Viktor after him, and Yuri Plisetsky two spaces before him. Yuuri didn’t know some of the other competitors as well, although he had at least heard of Guang-hong Ji and Emil Nekola.

Celestino seemed to sense Yuuri’s nervous energy even as he tried to contain it, and said in a low voice, “Would you rather watch the other competitors, or leave? Which would be less stressful for you?”

Yuuri anxiously wrung his hands together. “I don’t know,” he muttered and looked up at the screen, where Guang-Hong was taking his position on the ice to start his program. Emil had just finished, and his scores had been rather average. “I’ll… I’ll stay here,” Yuuri murmured, eyes darting to the other side of the room, where Viktor was standing with Georgi, Yuri, and his coach. Yakov met Yuuri’s eyes and gave him the slightest nod before turning his attention back to his students.

“I do have a job to do,” Yuuri mumbled, keeping an eye on Viktor even as he watched Guang-Hong land a slightly wobbly triple out on the ice.

Celestino pursed his lips, but only said, “If you’re sure.”

Yuuri took a deep, steadying breath, trying to get rid of the sick, panicky feeling in his gut, and then nodded. “I’m sure,” he said, and then added very quietly, looking down so no one would be able to read his lips, “My job is more important than my performance, to some extent. I need to do my best, but doing what I was assigned here to do always comes first.”

They fell silent and Yuuri kept his eyes fixed on the ice even as he watched out of the corner of his eye as Yuri Plisetsky quietly argued with Georgi while Viktor went on his phone. On the ice Guang-Hong fell in another jump and slid through slightly jerky step sequences, fists clenched. Yuuri could see the frustration in the boy’s frame and winced sympathetically when Guang-Hong hit the ice a third time on his final jump, this time tumbling before he managed to right himself and skate through the last step sequence.

The boy looked so young and small, standing there in the center of the ice with his trembling arms raised as the last notes of his program music echoed through the arena. If Yuuri had to guess he would have said that Guang-Hong was sixteen or seventeen, possibly skating his first season in the senior division.

Yuuri pressed his lips together as he watched the younger skater leave the ice with his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. The undoubtedly disappointing scores (at least it seemed like they were disappointing to Guang-Hong, who looked like he was fighting tears) were announced, and Yuuri resolved to go find Guang-Hong later and see if he was alright. He remembered his junior days well enough, including the disastrous season when he was fourteen and had barely made the top twenty at Junior Worlds.

“Is your friend here?” Celestino asked suddenly. Yuuri smiled. Minami had gleefully been texting him all day, sending him pictures of the signs he had brought and the new “friends” he was making among the other spectators.

“He is. He’s been a fan of ice skating for a very long time. He was very excited when I talked to him earlier.”

Celestino gave him a questioning glance. “And you're sure he’s-?”

“He’s not an ice skater,” Yuuri interrupted quickly before Celestino could say anything damning. “He’s only here to support me. That’s all.”

Celestino eyed him. “He seemed so young when I saw him yesterday,” he said. “How old is he?”

“He’s twenty,” Yuuri replied.

“He looks a lot younger,” Celestino observed, and Yuuri laughed quietly.

“He uses that to advantage all the time. I don’t think he ever needs to bring in lunch, people just give him food.”

Celestino smiled. “Maybe you could introduce me later?”

“Definitely,” Yuuri agreed. “I’m sure he’d like to meet you.”

They fell quiet as the lights in the arena dimmed slightly and Yuri Plisetsky’s music began, a beautiful, light, angelic piece of music that Yuuri found hard to reconcile with the irritable, angry teenager. But as Yuri began his routine he had a peaceful, serene expression on his face, and his movements were smooth and fluid.

“He’s… better than I expected,” Celestino muttered, eyes fixed on Yuri as the skater executed an almost perfect quad Salchow with hardly a wobble on the landing, his loose blond hair whipping around his head.

“I’ve heard he’s a prodigy,” Yuuri mumbled as Yuri twisted into a tight spin. But as the teenager entered the second half of his short program, Yuuri detected a flicker of something in his presentation. While still graceful and smooth, Yuri was clearly concentrating far more on the movements he was making than the emotions he was trying to evoke from the audience. His next step sequence was just slightly stiff, each step done with more force than was strictly necessary, and by the end of the program Yuuri could see the frustration in Yuri’s form as he launched himself into his last quad, landing badly enough that he had to touch the ice before coming jerking through the last step sequence and spin and coming to a stop in his ending position, face raised and eyes squeezed shut.

“That was…” Celestino trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

“That was impressive,” Yuuri mumbled, rubbing his nose. “But I could tell he was getting tired near the end.”

Celestino frowned. “I don’t know what his coach was thinking, putting all those jumps in the second half,” he murmured disapprovingly. “He clearly doesn’t have quite enough stamina to pull it off.”

Yuuri murmured something in agreement, and then said, “I’m on after Georgi, right?”

Celestino nodded. “Right.”

Yuuri laced his fingers together before stretching, popping the joints. “I’m going to do one last warm-up,” he said.

Celestino nodded, eyes on the screens displaying the scores, waiting for Yuri Plisetsky’s to come in. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Yuuri shook his head. “It’s fine.” He left the room, breathing deeply and clutching at his jacket as he went. He needed to get control of himself. He needed to be utterly cool, calm, and collected in case something happened. He _wasn’t_ going to panic. He _wasn’t_. Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was fine. He was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. He would go out onto the ice, he would skate his best, and he wouldn’t worry about winning so long as he made it to the finals so he could protect Viktor. God, this stress was why he had quit figure skating in the first place. He had thought it would be better… it _was_ better, but it still seemed like it might be too much.

Dimly, Yuuri heard someone say something to him, and then there was a hand on his shoulder and Celestino was looking down at him with worry in his eyes. “Are you alright?” he said. “Did you finish stretching?”

“I’m fine,” Yuuri promised, the words feeling strange as they left his mouth. “I’m fine. Um, let me finish really quick.”

Celestino pressed his lips together, but stepped back. Yuuri quickly stretched his arms, bent to stretch his legs, practices a few quick steps to make sure he was as limber as possible, and then faced his coach. “I’m ready,” he said.

Celestino nodded approvingly, reaching up absently to tighten his ponytail. “Let’s go, then,” he replied. “I think Georgi is probably almost done. Yuri Plisetsky is currently in first by a fair margin.”

Yuuri nodded. Celestino eyed him in concern, but didn’t say anything as he led Yuuri back into the arena. Yuuri flinched at the wave of unadulterated sound that crashed into him almost like a physical force, overwhelming and chaotic, rising as Georgi finished his routine with an agonized and heartbroken expression on his face.

“He gets into his performances, that’s for sure,” Celestino muttered, almost too quietly for Yuuri to hear. They approached the boards and Yuuri shrugged off his jacket, handing it to his coach. Celestino took it without a word, and accepted Yuuri’s blade guards a moment later when Yuuri stepped out onto the ice.

Yuuri swallowed hard, running his fingers through his gelled hair. “Any last advice?” he asked with a nervous smile.

Celestino smiled back. “Just do your best, I suppose,” he said. “And I know it probably won’t help to tell you, but don’t overthink the jumps. You’ve nailed down your quad toe, you’ll be fine.”

Yuuri nodded, taking three deep breaths before turning and skating out further into the rink, nervously tugging on the sleeves of his costume. With all eyes on him as he skated a lap before taking the center, Yuuri really began to regret choosing such a brightly colored costume, an embroidered blue jacket that clung to his shoulders and biceps and opened halfway up his chest to show a very light blue shirt underneath, paired with dark blue pants that sparkled with purple sequins along the bottom cuffs that trailed up his legs to about his knees. He should have gone with his first instinct, something black and white, instead of listening to Phichit and his terrible, flashy ideas.

Yuuri took his place in the center of the ice as a hush fell over the audience, his arms crossed over his chest in an ex and his head bowed. There was a moment of utter silence, completely unbroken by anything except the small sounds of Yuuri’s skates scratching on the ice beneath his feet and the blood pounding in his ears.

Then the music began and Yuuri began with it, opening up almost immediately as if he was baring his soul to the audience. It was odd; he hadn’t skated for such a large crowd in years, so long he hardly remembered what it was like to have the attention of hundreds fixed solely on him, hundreds of eyes watching every movement he made. He had forgotten what it was like, in his retirement, to know a routine so well that it was ingrained in his bones, sunk deep into his skin and filling his every thought.

Yuuri let his eyes flutter closed for a split second, feeling the cold air of the rink in contrast with the sweat already beading on his forehead, and then snapped one arm forward before launching himself into a double axel as the music rose. He landed steadily, one arm out and the other by his side, and slid through a quick, complicated choreographic sequence as if it were as easy as breathing.

He hadn’t expected to make it this far. Even when Interpol had assigned him this job, he hadn’t expected to make it onto the ice in front of everyone, in front of the world, in front of Viktor. Even as small tendrils of anxiety ate at him, held back by an odd sort of calm, exhilaration set in. Sure, most of the people weren’t here to see him. They had come for their favorites, for the skaters who _hadn’t_ given up after Juniors. But while the audience was here, he would make them watch _him_. He would make sure they wouldn’t forget him.

Yuuri realized just in time that he was coming up to the combination jump that marked the beginning of the second half of his program, and took off from the ice once, twice, in a glitter of crystals, arms tucked into his chest as he rotated midair. Yuuri exhaled with the downbeat in his music as his blade his the ice again, landing the jump without a hitch. He transitioned quickly into the next step sequence before whirling into a sit spin, getting faster and rising with the music around him.

He had one jump left, his quad toe, and even though his lungs were burning and his muscles were aching, Yuuri knew he could get the last jump in. He counted in his head, carefully watching around him and doing his best to ignore everything but his music and the ice, and jumped with a sudden moment of silence, spinning once, twice, three, four- and landed with the smallest wobble, not enough to throw him off.

Yuuri couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he went into one last slower spin as the music slowed. He had landed his quad toe at the end of his program, something he had been struggling with for the last several months, and he had landed it in front of the eyes of the world. Still grinning, Yuuri finished his skate in his final position, one arm curled around his chest similar to how he had begun while the other was outstretched, as if inviting someone to his side.

The world froze for a long moment, and then the arena exploded with sound, the audience roaring with approval. Tears pricked at Yuuri’s eyes as he was suddenly, unexpectedly overcome with emotion, and with shaking hands he covered his face and grinned even as he tried to stay standing.

Yuuri trembled, barely making off the ice without collapsing, the exhaustion hitting him, and accepted his things back from Celestino before allowing himself to be led to the kiss and cry.

“You did very well, Yuki,” Celestino said, smiling kindly. “That was a nearly perfect program.”

Yuuri rubbed both hands over his face. “I hope it will be enough,” he muttered, slumping next to his coach, trying to get his emotions under control. He had poured his heart out on the ice, let the audience see his every emotion, and as he waited to be judged for it he realized he was more afraid than he had been in a long time.

“Yuki!” Celestino gasped suddenly, clutching at Yuuri’s arm. Yuuri looked up, eyes wide, and his jaw dropped when he saw his score: 84.36, putting him in second place, a bit behind Yuri Plisetsky.

Yuuri covered his mouth with one hand, laughter catching in his throat. “Oh my gosh,” he said.

“Yuki!” Celestino said again, and gave him a crushing sideways hug. “Well done!”

Yuuri nodded, still staring up at his score in disbelief. It was good, really good, for not skating in competition for several years. Of course, after Viktor skated he would be in third, but going into the free skate third place was pretty good.

“Yuki!” someone called, and Yuuri’s attention shifted to where Viktor was standing with his rink mates and scowling coach. “Yuki!” Viktor said again when he saw that he had Yuuri’s attention, waving happily before walking over. Yuuri grinned at him in spite of himself.

“You did wonderfully!” Viktor said, bounding up to him and catching both of Yuuri’s hands between his own. Yuuri couldn’t help but notice, up close, the slight sparkle of glitter on Viktor’s cheekbones and the subtle eyeliner and lipstick he was wearing, his silvery hair gelled neatly away from his face.

Yuuri blushed as the compliment registered. “Thank you,” he said.

Viktor opened his mouth to add more, but before he could get any words out Yakov yelled angrily, “Viktor!”

Viktor winced. “I’ll talk to you later,” he promised, and winked. “I have a lot of good things to say about that lovely program, Yuki.”

Yuuri blushed harder. “Good luck,” he said earnestly, and Viktor gave him a small, private smile.

“Thank you,” he said, and then turned with one final wave and headed back to his coach.

Celestino clapped Yuuri on the shoulder. “I assume you want to watch, Yuki?” he said.

Yuuri nodded. “Now that I’m finished, I’d like to see,” he replied, and then grinned. “See what I’m up against, I guess.”

Celestino grinned back. “That’s the spirit,” he said. “Let’s find you a good seat.”

The two found good seats in an area reserved for the skaters just as Viktor took his place in the center of the ice. Yuuri’s eyes widened, fixed on Viktor. He hadn’t actually gotten a chance to see Viktor’s short program costume before now, and he leaned forward as he eyed the fitted white shirt that was more mesh than fabric in the back and sported a very low neck, paired with tight black pants that were probably designed specifically to show off his ass.

Yuuri swallowed hard, eyes wide, as Viktor winked at the audience, blowing a kiss to one side of the arena, before getting into his starting position. His music started with the strum of a guitar and the trill of violins and Viktor leapt into motion, curling his arms around himself and smiling seductively as he began his routine. Every step, every flick of his wrist and tilt of his head and brush of his arms, spoke a promise of something more, and Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat as Viktor landed his first jump flawlessly, no signs of weakness or fatigue in his figure.

Yuuri leaned forward in his seat without meaning to as Viktor entered the second half of his program, his spins tight and his jumps neat and steady. He made skating such a difficult program look as easy as anything, completely effortless, like he made almost any program appear, but despite that Yuuri gasped and clapped his hands over his mouth when Viktor switched out his last quad for a quad flip instead, landing it cleanly before finishing his routine.

Yuuri was one of the first to jump to his feet, applauding for the Russian skater. Viktor took a bow with a tight grin on his face, and bent to sweep a bouquet of flowers off the ice before heading to the kiss and cry.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, when Viktor’s scores came in they were high- not quite record-breaking, but more than enough to put him in first, several points ahead of Yuri Plisetsky. Viktor accepted his scores with a nod, looking content with his results, while Yakov uselessly lectured him.

“Well done, Yuki,” Celestino said, turning to Yuuri and smiling. “Third place at the end of the short program. That’s incredible.”

Yuuri smiled back. “I just hope it will be enough.”

***

Yuuri was going to throw up. He was actually, legitimately going to throw up, and then he would fail during his free skate and get disqualified and not be able to compete in the Grand Prix Finals-

“Yuki, is there anything I can do to help you?” Celestino asked patiently, resting a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri shook his head. “I’m fine,” he managed to choke out. “I’ll be fine. Just need- need-”

“Why don’t you step out for a moment?” Celestino suggested. “It seemed to help you yesterday.”

Yuuri nodded, clutching at his jacket. “I’ll- I’ll come back,” he stammered, and Celestino nodded, shooing him out of the warm-up area.

Yuuri wandered blindly away one hand pressed to his mouth, trying to steady his breath. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and it was probably making him a bit insensible. He _couldn’t_ let the pressure get to him. His job was too important.

Yuuri turned a corner, blood pounding in his ears, and stopped short as he came upon Georgi Popovich arguing with a dark-haired woman. “Anya, please, I can’t-” Georgi said imploringly in Russian, and then stopped short when Yuuri turned the corner.

“Ah!” Yuuri gasped, eyes wide. He bowed slightly at the waist, and blurted in Japanese, “I’m so sorry to interrupt!”

The woman, Anya, eyed him curiously. “You’re one of the other skaters,” she said in heavily accented English. “Nakamura, was it?”

Yuuri nodded again, a bit surprised she had heard of him. “I am so sorry, I will go-”

Anya gave him a tight smile. “It’s quite alright,” she said. “My ex-boyfriend was just leaving.”

Georgi winced at her words. “Anya,” he murmured, something desperate and pleading in his voice.

Anya gave him a cold glare. “Get away from me, Georgi,” she said. “I told you we were through. Don’t you have to skate?”

Georgi swallowed hard, licked his lips before saying in hoarse Russian, “Please, just let me- I can’t do this anymore, Anya, please-”

Anya gave him a firm shove in the shoulder, walking past him. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Nakamura,” she said, pausing for a moment in front of Yuuri. “Good luck.”

“Th-thank you?” Yuuri stammered, very confused, and stood in frozen silence until the clacking of her heels on the floor had faded. Georgi gave Yuuri a long look, anger and grief warring on his face, and then ducked his head and quickly walked after her.

Yuuri turned to stare after them and then slumped against the wall, out of the way. He would be shocked if Georgi managed to skate a clean program after that, as terrible as it was to say. Yuuri pressed his forehead to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut, and tried to calm his trembling stomach. He should stretch. He should stretch, or he might pull a muscle or injure himself in some other way during his performance. That would be very bad.

Yuuri shakily got to his feet and stretched out his arms and legs, standing in the middle of the mostly empty hallway. He was still there, dancing through his program on dry land, when Celestino found him. “Yuki, there you are,” he said. “You need to come, you’re next.”

Yuuri followed his coach through the halls and into the main area of the rink, the cold air doing little to soothe his nerves. “Are you ready?” Celestino asked as the music of whoever was on the ice swelled towards what sounded like the end of the piece.

Yuuri nodded, even as his vision swam and his gut churned with nerves. In a daze, he handed his skate guards and jacket to his coach, stepping onto the ice just as Georgi stepped off it, something defeated in his expression. “Good luck,” he thought he heard the Russian man murmur, and then Yuuri was in the center of the ice, surrounded by quiet. It was almost like being back at the Ice Castle, back home in Hasetsu, and then the music began and Yuuri started to skate.

Just as his short program was about beginnings, his free program was supposed to be about hopes for the future, goals he wanted to reach, dreams he was only beginning to achieve, and Yuuri tried to show that in every movement he made. He pressed his hands to his chest as he gathered speed for his first jump, and breathed a long sigh of relief when he landed it.

This program was harder than his short program, all but one of the jumps in the second half, and he would have to push in order to skate cleanly. Sure enough, Yuuri entered the second half of his program with his muscles burning, breath short and fast as he set himself up for jump after spin after choreographic sequence. He was drained, close to collapsing, but managed to land his final quad with only a little wobble before finding his last position, arm outstretched as if reaching for something just beyond his sight.

As soon as the applause began Yuuri crumpled to his hands and knees, gasping and shaking with exhaustion. With great effort he pushed himself to his feet and left the ice, readily accepting Celestino’s offer of support as he hobbled to the kiss and cry. He knew his stamina was decent, but he would really have to work on it if he was going to be able to perform his best in Russia and (hopefully) at the finals.

“You did very well, Yuki,” Celestino murmured as they sat together in the kiss and cry. “I have about thirty notifications from Phichit, he was live-tweeting the competition.”

“Of course he was,” Yuuri laughed.

“160.20,” the announcer said happily, and Yuuri’s gaze snapped up to where his scores were displayed. “Yuki Nakamura is now in first place.”

“Amazing, Yuki!” Celestino said happily.

Yuuri stayed where he was for a moment, staring wide-eyed up at the screen, and then turned open-mouthed to his coach. “I…”

“You earned that score,” Celestino said firmly, and then got to his feet. “Do you want to watch the other programs?” Yuuri nodded, standing and leaving the kiss and cry with his coach.

“Mr. Nakamura!” a reporter cried as soon as Yuuri drew near. “How do you feel about your performance?”

Yuuri froze. Celestino gave him an encouraging smile, and stayed silent. Yuuri licked his dry lips, a little shaky with exhaustion, and said into the microphone shoved in his face, “I’m, um, I’m proud of how I skated. I hope to make Japan proud.”

“And how do you feel about the fact that you will definitely be on the podium at the end of tonight?” the reporter pressed.

Yuuri blinked. “I will?”

The reporter gave him a patient, slightly amused smile. “You’re in first, with only two more competitors to go,” he said.

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he mumbled.

Celestino laughed, and said to the reporter, “No more questions, please.”

The reporter smiled back, stepping away as Celestino steered Yuuri away from the kiss and cry, the music of Yuri Plisetsky’s free program echoing around them. “Did you not realize?” Celestino asked.

Yuuri shook his head numbly. “It… it hadn’t occurred to me,” he said. “How…”

Celestino laughed. “It’s most likely you’ll get bronze,” he said. “But that’s still very, very good.”

Yuuri covered his face to hide his grin, and stayed like that until he had control over himself again. When he looked up Yuri Plisetsky was most of the way through his free program, fists clenched determinedly and face set, and before he knew it the teenager was standing in the middle of the ice, frozen in his final pose. Yuuri smiled, clapping for the boy.

“Yuki.”

Yuuri whirled around at the voice in his ear to find Viktor standing behind him, and odd smile on his face. “Watch me, Yuki,” Viktor said very seriously.

Yuuri nodded. “Of course,” he replied. “I won’t take my eyes off you.”

Viktor gave him a steady, determined smile. “Don’t take your eyes off me,” he repeated thoughtfully, and then nodded. “Good. I’ll give you some good competition.” His smile brightened, and he gave Yuuri a very quick peck on the cheek before heading back to where his coach waited impatiently.

Yuuri touched his cheek absently, and watched with widened eyes as Viktor shrugged off his jacket to reveal a simple white shirt embroidered in silver, matched with black pants that faded to grey and then white.

Viktor took the ice to wild applause with a small smile on his lips, and a hush fell over the audience as his music began.

Yuuri couldn’t take his eyes off Viktor if he tried, watching every move the man made with excitement and more than a little awe. As always, Viktor was like a deity on the ice, every movement precise, every emotion in his movements bared for the world to see. He skated with utter confidence, but there was something different in his form, something Yuuri realized he hadn’t seen in Viktor in a long time. His theme, passion, seemed to flow from him with each step and spin, and when Viktor landed his last jump there was a tiny smile on his lips, proud and satisfied.

He finished the skate with a spin so fast he seemed to blur, almost lifting off the ice, and then stopped with one arm raised above his head, facing the judges. There was a moment of silence and then the audience exploded with applause. Viktor beamed and left the ice, looking utterly delighted with himself.

Yuuri leaned back in his chair a little, awed. Viktor had landed all his jumps, hadn’t made any egregious errors, and his presentation had been so much more than Yuuri had seen in a long time… his score would be incredible.

Viktor sat with Yakov in the kiss and cry, clutching a poodle plush in his arms as he waited for his score. Yuuri stared up at the screens, probably just as nervous as Viktor was, and then startled as the speakers crackled just as the scores were posted.

“Oh my god,” Yuuri said, pressing his hand to his mouth in delight as Viktor’s scores were displayed.

“Nikiforov breaks his previously set world record for the free program score with an astounding 219.04!” the commentator said gleefully. “What a competition! This puts Nikiforov in first, Plisetsky in second, and Nakamura in third. What an exciting show the Finals will be!”

“Bronze!” Celestino cried happily above the roar of the crowd. “Yuki, you medalled!”

Yuuri covered his face with his hands, overcome with emotion. He had done it. He had won bronze in the first ISU competition in several years, he had medalled and he would get to stand on the podium next to Viktor Nikiforov. It was like a fevered daydream from his childhood, but he had _done_ it.

The medal ceremony was a blur, and Yuuri was sure everyone could see the happy tears rolling down his cheeks as he stood on the podium at Viktor’s side and accepted his bronze medal to the thunderous applause of everyone in the arena. The press conference that followed was equally fast, and relatively painless, and before Yuuri knew it Celestino was ushering him back to his hotel room.

Yuuri numbly clutching the bronze medal that rested against his chest, looking down at it every few seconds, hardly able to believe that it was actually real. “You should rest, Yuki,” Celestino suggested with a smile.

“I- I’m fine,” Yuuri tried to insist.

Celestino frowned. “You look like you’re going to fall over,” he scolded, and Yuuri flushed.

“Alright,” he said.

Celestino nodded. “Let me know your plans for the night when you wake up, alright?” he said. “I was planning to get dinner with some of the other coaches later, but I can change that if you want.”

“No, no, don’t change your plans,” Yuuri said quickly, fumbling to open the door to his hotel room. “I’ll be fine. I’ll probably end up calling Phichit later.”

Celestino smiled. “I’m sure he’d like to hear from you,” he said. “Try to get some rest, alright?”

Yuuri nodded, and his coach gave him one last light pat on the back before turning to his own room. Yuuri managed to unlock his door and immediately shed his Team Japan jacket and put it on top of his suitcase. He barely managed to change out of his costume and into something more comfortable before collapsing on the bed.

Yuuri slept for a few hours, completely dead to the world, until conversation in the hallway outside his door roused him. He was completely awake by the time whatever group of people had been walking by left, and stayed in bed for another few minutes before emerging from underneath his cocoon of blankets to get his phone. It was later than he expected, late enough that Celestino had probably gone to dinner already, and after perusing the room service menu Yuuri ordered something before distracting himself with his newsfeed.

His bronze medal performance was already all over the news, getting just as much attention as Viktor’s record-breaking free skate and Yuri Plisetsky’s stunning performance. They were calling him a dark horse, an unexpectedly competent competitor, and while Yuuri couldn’t help but agree it sparked something warm and prideful inside he to know that he was the one who had surprised them all. He had come out of nowhere, and he had proven his worth.

He wondered if there was any way the real Yuki would let him keep the medal.

Someone knocked on the door and Yuuri opened it cautiously to find a hotel employee with the food he had ordered. “Arigatō,” Yuuri mumbled, not really wanting to engage, and the hotel employee gave him a tired smile and handed him his food.

Yuuri ate quickly, barely tasting the food. Once he had finished eating he paced in circles around his hotel room for nearly twenty minutes before deciding that he was far too wired to go to sleep again quite yet. He considered texting Minami to see if his friend was still up and wanted to meet or talk, but he was sure the man was exhausted and jet-lagged after traveling from Japan. And Viktor was surely busy, out and about with friends or sponsors or his rink mates. He wouldn’t have time for Yuuri.

Yuuri took a deep breath, raking his fingers through his hair.  He could go for a walk to calm down. It would be fine. While it made him nervous to walk around a city at night, he was fairly strong both from skating and from his work for Interpol, was trained to fight, and he could bring something to protect himself.

Mind made up, Yuuri grabbed his jacket, wallet, and phone from on top of his suitcase and his shoes from beside the door, at the last second stuffing his knife in his pocket and the gun he had brought in the waistband of his pants. Hopefully no one would give him a hard time, but a little extra protection probably wouldn’t hurt so late at night. He would just go on a quick walk, to clear his head, and then come back and go straight to bed.

Yuuri quietly left the hotel, locking his door behind him and going down the steps out out the back door and onto the street. He quickly lost himself in his thoughts as he wandered with little regard for where he was going. At one point he ended up at the park he and Viktor had gone on their date in, at another point he was walking across a bridge, and another he wandered down a narrow, dimly-lit street with tall houses on either side of him…

In a daze, Yuuri realized he had been walking around aimlessly for over an hour, and the moon was high in the sky. With a curse under his breath Yuuri looked around, glad at least that his surroundings were vaguely familiar. It was late, very late, and he was exhausted, feet aching and muscles burning. He turned and trudged back in the direction of the hotel, already looking forward to his warm, soft bed.

Yuuri was about a block from his hotel when he heard someone yelling in an alleyway. He almost walked past, tired, ready to collapse in bed so he could actually sleep before his exhibition the next day, and selfishly not wanting to get involved with what was probably just a local skirmish, but one of the voices made him pause. He recognized it.

Instantly alert, Yuuri slipped a hand behind himself, gripping his gun, and then crept up to the mouth of the alley and peeked around the corner just in time to see Yuri Plisetsky get hit in the ribs with a pipe by a young man with a much larger build than the slim, willowy figure skater.

Yuuri didn't even hesitate, stepping forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how much I danced around my room, trying to figure out the movements in Yuuri's and Viktor's programs. It probably wasn't helped by the fact that I know very little about choreography.
> 
> I hope this wasn't too boring! The next chapter will be on February 15th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have an amazing day, dear reader!


	10. Make Sure Secrets Stay Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which battles are fought and secrets are unwillingly revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooo look at me, updating early! I was super excited for this chapter, it's kind of a beast, but I hope it lives up to expectations! Just bear with me, I'm iffy at action and fight scenes.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Trigger warning for violence in the end notes
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Hey!" Yuuri shouted, stepping into the alley.

All four people at the end of the narrow street turned to stare at him. "Katsudon," Yuri gasped, doubled over and clutching at his ribs. "Run, Katsudon."

"Yeah, why don't you run?" one of the men sneered.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes and took another step forward, but he let go of his gun. He would only use it if absolutely necessary, for fear of accidentally hitting Yuri.

The man with the pipe hit Yuri again, and the Russian collapsed to his knees. "Run, Yuki," he gasped, and then the man hit him in the back of the head, dazing him.

Yuuri rushed forward to save Yuri, but one of the other young men stepped in front of him. "I guess you can give us your wallet as well if you're so eager," he leered. Yuuri didn't even hesitate before punching him in the stomach. When he doubled over, Yuuri brought his knee up and crunched it into the young man's face.

The young man made a wheezing sound and clutched his nose, blood leaking through his fingers. "You've done it now," the third thug said, pulling out a knife and advancing on Yuuri.

Yuuri quickly assessed the situation. It was about two and a half against one. Yuri was incapacitated. One of the young men had a broken nose, but if he could concentrate he might be able to do some harm. The other two were unhurt and armed, one with a knife and the other with a pipe. The one with the pipe still stood over a semiconscious Yuri, and the one with the knife was after Yuuri.

Before he could do anything, Yuuri grabbed the young man with the broken nose by the hair and slammed his head sideways into the wall with enough force to knock him out, but hopefully not enough to kill him. That done, he met the man with the knife head on.

The man stabbed down inelegantly in a strike that would have lodged the knife in Yuuri's shoulder, but Yuuri caught his wrist at the last moment and twisted it. He heard a whistling sound from behind him just in time and ducked. The pipe, swung by the other thug, clanged into the wall above his head.

Yuuri twisted the wrist he was still holding sharply, breaking it with a harsh snap. The man screamed and dropped the knife. Yuuri dodged another blow from the man wielding the pipe, grabbed the knife, and slammed the hilt down on the first man's head with enough force to daze him.

Yuuri shoved him back towards his friend, and they stumbled into each other. The one with the with pipe pushed past his friend and swung wildly at Yuuri, who leaned over backward and dodged. He caught the end of the pipe as it bounced off the narrow wall of the alley, and before the man could react he tugged the pipe out of his hands and tossed it somewhere behind him.

The man snarled and came at Yuuri with his bare hands, fists swinging. Yuuri landed a right hook, an uppercut, a knee to the groin, and then an elbow to the back of the head before the man collapsed to the ground unconscious. Unfortunately, he had managed to get a punch to the face before Yuuri knocked him out, and Yuuri touched his split lip with gentle fingers.

He looked around for the knife he had dropped at some point, but before he could locate it a voice said in accented English, "Stop."

Yuuri froze.

The third thug, the one he had thought was too dazed to be harmful, was kneeling by Yuri, holding the younger boy by the hair to expose his neck. He had the knife pressed to Yuri's jugular.

"I will kill him," he said threateningly and pressed the knife tighter to Yuri. A bead of blood rolled down his neck and Yuri whimpered, green eyes wide and terrified behind disheveled blond hair.

"Money," the thug said pointedly. "Watch. Phone. Put it on the ground and walk away, I won't kill him."

Yuuri took a deep breath. "Alright," he said quietly, reaching a hand behind himself. "I'm just getting my wallet, OK?"

"Yuki..." Yuri whispered, voice raw and scared, eyes filled with tears.

Yuuri gripped his gun, clicked off the safety, and then whipped it out and shot the thug in the shoulder. He screamed and let go of Yuri who collapsed, boneless and whimpering.

Yuuri stalked forward and pistol-whipped the man across the face with his gun before slamming the butt of the gun down on his head. The man collapsed unconscious and Yuuri immediately clicked the safety back on his weapon before shoving back into the waistband of his pants and falling to his knees beside Yuri.

"Yuri," he whispered, gently turning the teenager face up.

"Yuki-" Yuri mumbled, eyes hazy and unfocused. "What-"

"Yuri, I need you to tell me what hurts," Yuuri said urgently, speaking Russian in the hopes that it would get through better to the injured teen.

"Fucking everything," Yuri groaned. His eyes focused a little better on Yuuri and he said, "Yuki, how-?"

"We need to get you back to the hotel," Yuuri interrupted, panicked and trying to make sense of his racing thoughts. "I'm going to pick you up, OK?" He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the best thing in the world to pick up the injured skater, but he was certain that being around when Yuri’s attackers woke up would be very bad.  He would make sure to call the authorities about the injured attackers, but not until Yuri was safe.

“I’m not a fucking damsel, Katsudon," Yuri grumbled, which Yuuri took as consent. Very carefully, he gathered Yuri into his arms and stood. He frowned worriedly. The Russian teen didn't weigh much at all, and he groaned when Yuuri moved him.

"Shh, it's OK," Yuuri murmured, walking quickly out of the alley and down the block but trying to keep Yuri steady. "You're safe."

"Don't understand- how-" Yuri mumbled, pawing weakly at Yuuri's shirt. His eyes fluttered closed.

"Yuri!" Yuuri immediately shouted, and Yuri's eyes snapped open.

"Fuck!  You can't go to sleep, not after a knock to the head like that," Yuuri said, glancing up to see that they were almost at the hotel. "Not until I know that you don't have a concussion."

Yuri made an irritated noise, but his eyes stayed open and fixed on Yuuri's face. Yuuri shouldered his way through the door of the hotel, ignored the questions called by the concierge, and walked quickly across the lobby to the elevator. "Come on, come on," he said anxiously, nervously tapping a foot as the elevator took a year and a day to arrive.

He glanced down at the teenager in his arms. Yuri looked back at him, hurt and confused, but with anger shining in his eyes. "Yuki-" he started, but the elevator cut him off as it arrived with a bing. Yuuri shuffled into the elevator and fumbled for a moment before pressing the button for the floor Viktor and Yuri were on, one floor above his own.

The elevator doors slid closed, and Yuuri's stomach lurched as it began to go up. "Yuki, what the fuck-" Yuri started.

"Yuri, I promise I'll explain," Yuuri said in a rush before he could regret it. "But not now, OK?"

"Fucking knew you were a ninja," Yuri muttered before his eyes closed again.

"Yuri!" Yuuri yelled, unintentionally jostling the teenager.

"Not fucking asleep," Yuri slurred.

"I need you to keep your eyes open," Yuuri ordered, and breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator doors opened. Yuri watched apathetically with half-lidded eyes as Yuuri carried him quickly down the hall to Viktor's room. After a moment of indecision, he kicked the bottom of the door a few times, desperately hoping Viktor would hear. It was late, and Viktor was surely asleep. He waited a long moment, and then kicked the door again, harder.

"Comin'," a voice from within called, and a minute later a sleepy, bleary-eyed Viktor opened the door, running his fingers through his hair. He took a second to focus on Yuuri, and then his eyes widened. "Yuki?" His gaze flicked to Yuri, and horror dawned on his expression. "Yura?"

Yuuri pushed past him into the room. "Viktor, get Yakov," he ordered, laying Yuri down on one of the beds and turning on the lamp.

"Oh my god, what happened?" Viktor gasped, trailing after him. Yuuri winced. He knew he looked bad, with his bruised knuckles and bleeding split lip, and Yuri looked even worse. But that couldn't be helped.

"I'll explain," Yuuri said impatiently, and then let some steel slip into his voice as he ordered again, "Viktor, get Yakov."

"OK," Viktor said with wide eyes, and hurried out. Yuuri turned his attention back to Yuri, glad to see that the teenager had his eyes open, watching him.

"Who are you, and what the fuck have you done with Katsudon?" he rasped.

Yuuri chuckled bitterly as he gently unzipped Yuri's jacket and pulled it off him. This would be a hard one to explain. "Are you bleeding anywhere?" he asked, and Yuri winced.

"Head, maybe?" he said.

Very gently, Yuuri lifted Yuri's head off the pillowcase and winced when he felt slick blood against his fingers, matting the back of Yuri's hair. "Fuck," Yuuri mumbled.

Viktor burst back into the room, Yakov at his heels. "Yuuri?" the coach exclaimed, eyes on Yuuri, and then he noticed Yuri. "Fuck, Yura, what happened?" he hissed, coming to stand next to Yuuri by Yuri's bed.

"Can I sleep?" Yuri mumbled, suddenly looking a lot less lucid.

"Just stay awake for a little longer, Yuri," Yuuri muttered. He slid a hand under Yuri's shirt and ghosted his fingers across the other boy's ribs. "At least three fractures, but he's not coughing up blood so far, so maybe we've avoided any serious internal damage," Yuuri said grimly. "Bleeding on the back of the head. Likely a concussion, although I'm not sure how severe. He needs a hospital. You please call, you probably speak better French than I do."

Yakov immediately pulled out his phone and dialed emergency services. He spoke in quick, clipped French, telling them about Yuri's injuries and where they were, and then hung up.

Yakov cast a quick glance at Viktor, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed and shooting glances between Yuuri and Yuri, and then said in a low voice, "Do you think it's related?"

Yuuri sighed. "Hard to say, until we know why he got mugged," he replied.

Viktor glanced up at that. "Yura got mugged?" he said.

Yuuri frowned. "What do you think happened?"

Viktor shrugged. "I sort of figured you had gotten mugged, Yura stepped in to save you, and got injured as a result."

Yuuri exhaled slowly. "No, Yuri got mugged," he replied. "I managed to distract them, and then they ran away."

Viktor blinked. "Yuki, how?" Yuuri turned to Yakov. "What do you think?"

"How much does he know?" Yakov asked, jerking his chin at Yuri.

Yuuri worried his lip between his teeth. "He saw what I did. But he was also semiconscious."

"Saw everything," Yuri mumbled. "Saw- fighting- Yuki-"

His eyes slid shut, and Yuuri clapped by his ear. "Yuri, stay awake," he said harshly.

"What can I do to help?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri hesitated, and then said, "Go down to the lobby and wait for the emergency services so that you can tell them where to go." Viktor looked like he wanted to protest, but then left with one last lingering look at Yuri and Yuuri.

"What are you going to tell him?" Yakov immediately hissed.

"Viktor?" Yuuri said, looking down at Yuri. The teenager looked up at him, green eyes barely visible through his eyelashes. "I'll tell Viktor as little as possible," Yuuri decided. "Make something up. Maybe I learned how to fight in high school to protect myself from bullies. I can bullshit my way through it, since he didn't really see anything. But Yuri saw too much."

"What did he see?" Yakov murmured.

Yuuri looked down at his bruised knuckles. "He saw me fight off three men my own size and win," he answered. "He saw me shoot one."

Yakov took an involuntary step back. "You shot someone?"

"I had no choice," Yuuri snapped, and gestured to the dried trickle of blood on Yuri's neck. "He was about three seconds away from having his throat slit. I shot the assailant in the shoulder and then knocked him out, but now Yuri knows I have a weapon and know how to use it."

Yakov sighed. "You might have to come clean with him."

"I'll call Minako once he's on his way to the hospital," Yuuri replied softly. "But I agree. He deserves an explanation."

Yuri reached out and weakly grasped Yuuri's wrist. "Yuki-" he gasped, and coughed.

"What is it?" Yuuri asked.

"Tired," Yuri told him with a long, slow blink. "Sleep."

"No, no, Yuri, no sleep," Yuuri said, but then Yuri's eyes slid closed. "Fuck!" Yuuri hissed, and bent over the teenager, trying to wake him without jostling his torso in case he had internal bleeding. Yuri didn't stir. "Fuck!" Yuuri mumbled again, and then grabbed a water glass from the table by the bed and splashed Yuri in the face. Yuri jerked awake and hissed like a cat.

"Yura," Yakov said, leaning over the teenager. "You need to stay awake."

"Tired," Yuri murmured, clearly struggling.

"Yurotchka," Yakov said. "If you stay awake until the ambulance comes, I'll buy you all the pirozhki you can eat for a week."

"Really?" Yuri slurred. Yakov nodded.

They waited for another few minutes, Yuuri irregularly clapping his hands by Yuri's ear to startle him awake, until the door to the room opened and Viktor led in a team of paramedics. Yuuri and Yakov stepped back as they gently loaded Yuri on the gurney.

"Are you his legal guardian?" one of the paramedics asked Yakov as the other two secured Yuri.

"For now, yes," Yakov replied.

"Come with us," she ordered.

"I'll contact the both of you when I have more information," Yakov said to Viktor and Yuuri as they wheeled Yuri out. He caught Yuuri by the shoulder, and met his eyes. "Thank you," he said sincerely, and then hurried after the paramedics, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Yuuri's shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "I should go back to my room," he said to Viktor, offering him a small smile. "You need to sleep."

Viktor shook his head. "I'm not going to be able to sleep after all that," he said, and then sunk down on his bed and tangled his fingers in his hair. "Yuki, what happened?"

Yuuri sat down cautiously next to him. "I hadn't been able to sleep, so I went out for a walk," he said quietly. "When I was coming back, I saw Yuri getting beaten up by three other teenagers not much bigger than him." That was a lie, but Viktor would never know. "I stepped in, and scared them off before bringing Yuri back here."

"How did you scare them off?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri pressed his lips together. "I learned how to fight in high school, as a way to make myself a more difficult target for bullying," he said. "Once I landed a decent punch, the kids ran away and left Yuri alone."

Viktor looked over at Yuuri, and Yuuri was surprised to see his clear blue eyes brimming with tears. "He would have died," Viktor whispered. "If you hadn't been there, Yura would have died." A tear trickled down his cheek and dripped off his chin.

Yuuri hesitated, and then tentatively put an arm around Viktor's shoulders. Viktor immediately latched onto him. "Shh, it's OK," Yuuri murmured, rubbing Viktor's back as the Russian sobbed into his shoulder. "Yuri is going to be just fine. He's safe now."

Viktor's crying petered off after a few minutes and he pulled back, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Don't be," Yuuri said gently. "It's not shameful to be worried about your friend." He brushed another tear off Viktor’s chin with one thumb, and then murmured, “Are you alright?”

Viktor’s expression broke for a moment. “I don’t know,” he replied in a hoarse, hollow voice, and then turned away. Yuuri frowned in concern, but knew enough not to reach for Viktor again until the older man wanted his comfort.

Viktor took a shuddering breath, and then asked, "Yuki... will you stay tonight? I'm not going to be able to sleep, it would be easier-"

"Of course," Yuuri said, heart melting. "I just need to make some calls, OK?"

"What calls?" Viktor asked.

Yuuri gave him a wan smile. "I need to change my flight, for one," he said. "I can't go home until I know Yuri is OK.” He needed to call Minako, to see what he should do about Yuri, and calling the airline seemed like a reasonable excuse.

Viktor suddenly enveloped him in a hug. "Thank you," he muttered into Yuuri's neck.

Yuuri smiled. "You're welcome, Viktor."

Viktor let go of him. "I'll let you make your calls," he said. "Do you want to go out on the balcony?"

"Thanks," Yuuri replied gratefully. He slipped out the balcony door, leaving it slightly open, and leaned against the railing as he dialed Minako.

She picked up on the second ring with a terse, "What went wrong?"

"I may have partially blown my cover," Yuuri said.

Minako was silent for a long moment before she said, "Explain."

"Coming back to the hotel after going for a walk, I came across Yuri Plisetsky getting mugged," Yuuri said. "I stepped in to stop them from killing him, but he saw as I knocked two unconscious and shot the third in the shoulder. He's smart, Minako, he knows something's up. I promised him an explanation."

Minako's sigh whistled over the phone. "Does Nikiforov suspect anything?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Yuuri answered. "He wasn't actually there, he just saw Yuri and I. I fed him a bullshit story about learning to fight in high school to scare off bullies, I don't think he'll delve that deeply into it.  Minako, would you mind sending someone to arrest the muggers in case what they did is related to Viktor?"

"Already done," Minako replied.

"Thanks."

Minako hesitated. "What are Plisetsky's injuries?" she asked.

"At least three broken or fractured ribs and probably a concussion," Yuuri replied with a sigh.

Minako was silent for another second, and then she said, "He's not going to be able to compete in this Grand Prix Final, is he?"

"I doubt it."

"You have permission to come clean," Minako said in a low voice. "You can tell him you're with Interpol, and that you're here to protect Viktor. It could be useful to have someone to help you, someone who knows a lot of the other skaters."

"Understood," Yuuri replied, nodding even though Minako couldn't see him.

“And, Yuuri,” Minako said, utterly serious. “Make sure he won’t talk. Do what you need to, alright? I trust your judgement. We need this job to stay secret, am I understood?”

Yuuri swallowed hard, mouth dry. “Understood, ma’am.”

"Take care of yourself, Yuuri," she said, and then hung up.

Yuuri stared down at the phone in his hand before slipping it back into his pocket and coming in from the balcony. Viktor smiled weakly, looking up when he came in.  He looked a little calmer, but Yuuri could see the tension in his shoulders as he swung his legs off the bed.

"Come on," Viktor said, beckoning Yuuri towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Yuuri realized he must look awful, with blood on his chin from his split lip, knuckles bruised, clothes and hair disheveled, dirt on his face from the struggle. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and Viktor's smile softened.

"It's not terrible," he said, and then ducked his head and added, "I'm glad you're not hurt any worse."

Yuuri smiled a little. "Thanks. Me too."

Viktor beckoned him into the bathroom and motioned for him to sit in the closed seat of the toilet. Yuuri complied, and Viktor rummaged around in his toiletries before coming to kneel in front of Yuuri with a damp washcloth and antiseptic.

"Is this... OK?" Viktor said uncertainly, and Yuuri nodded. Viktor bit his lip, and then gently started to clean the dirt from Yuuri's face with the cloth. Yuuri stared resolutely ahead, definitely _not_ thinking about the handsome man kneeling at his feet.

Viktor carefully cleaned the dirt and blood of his face and hands, and then said, "Are you hurt anywhere else?" He touched Yuuri's chest with his fingertips. "Do you want me to check?"

"I'm fine," Yuuri said quickly, knowing that if he took off his shirt Viktor would be able to see the gun he still had tucked into his waistband. "I was lucky."

"You were," Viktor agreed. He stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor in front of Yuuri, looking up slightly, and then murmured in Russian, "How didn't I realize that you are so brave?"

Yuuri tried valiantly to keep the flush from creeping into his cheeks. "What was that?" he asked, because of course, he wasn't supposed to understand Russian.

Viktor smiled at him. "I was just saying that it could have turned out a lot worse," he said.

"Mmhm," Yuuri muttered in noncommittal agreement.

"Do you want a change of clothes?" Viktor asked flicking his bangs out of his eyes.

"If you don't mind," Yuuri said sheepishly.

Viktor gave him a brilliant, if slightly forced, smile. "It's no trouble."

Yuuri smiled tentatively back. “Still. Thank you.”

Viktor straightened, and then offered Yuuri a hand up. “My clothes will probably be a little big on you,” he said as Yuuri stood as well, blushing slightly when he accepted Viktor’s hand and their fingers curled around each other. “But I’m sure we can find something that will work.”

Viktor smiled down at a blushing Yuuri, and then Yuuri blurted after too long a pause, “So, I’ll, um, get dressed then?”

Viktor’s smile didn’t flicker. “Of course.”

Yuuri followed him out of the bathroom and into the main part of the hotel room. Viktor crossed to the bureau and dug out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a comfortable t-shirt, handing them to Yuuri. "Here you go," he said with a smile.

Yuuri smiled back, and then quickly went to the bathroom to change, carefully wrapping his gun in his shirt so Viktor wouldn't be able to see it before exiting.

The Russian man looked up when Yuuri exited, greeting him with a wan smile. “Come here,” he said, patting the bed beside him, and then gave Yuri’s bed a wary glance. “I don’t think the hotel will be too pleased that he bled all over their sheets, but I do suppose it was an emergency,” he sighed.

Yuuri nervously settled himself on the bed beside Viktor, unsure of exactly how to act around the other man. They had gone out on a few dates, they had kissed, but they weren’t boyfriends. And now Yuuri was sitting on his bed in borrowed clothes in the middle of the night after his rink mate had been attacked and hospitalized. 

Viktor gave him a tiny, sideways smile, and then shifted his arm in invitation. Yuuri sighed in quiet relief and leaned against him.

Viktor pulled him close and pressed his nose into Yuuri’s hair. “What time is it?” he mumbled.

Yuuri shrugged, burying his face in Viktor’s shoulder. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Late. Too late.”

Viktor sighed, his breath warm on the top of Yuuri’s head, and settled deeper into the pillows. Yuuri closed his eyes, the adrenaline from the fight finally mostly drained from his body and leaving him exhausted.

Viktor made a small, murmured sound, and then moved his legs until they were under the covers. “Yuki?” he said in a small, vulnerable voice.

Yuuri looked up at him, eyes wide behind his glasses. “Yes?”

Viktor bit his lip, looking back down at him with an odd struggle in his eyes. He sighed quietly after a long moment of silence, and shook his head. “Never mind.” He pulled Yuuri closer, so that their sides were pressed together and Yuuri’s legs were half on top of Viktor’s. “You can sleep if you want, I know you’re tired,” Viktor said quietly, his voice unusually gentle.

Yuuri allowed himself to rest his head on Viktor’s chest, and shook his head. “I’m fine.” He heard a soft rustling, and looked over to see Viktor anxiously tapping one finger on the comforter by his hip.

“Do you want to do something?” Yuuri suggested. “As a distraction? We could watch a movie or something.”

Viktor swallowed hard. “It feels wrong, to do something enjoyable while Yura’s in the hospital,” he whispered.

Yuuri reached over and put a hand over his, stilling it. “I know how you feel,” he said, knowing it would sound hollow. “But there’s not anything you can do. Yakov promised to call as soon as there was news, right?”

Viktor nodded reluctantly. “Alright,” he murmured. “Yes, let’s watch a film.” He smiled sheepishly down at Yuuri. “I guess I could use the distraction.” His eyes flicked over Yuuri’s face almost nervously, and then he pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead before getting out of bed. “Let me get my laptop.” But before he had taken even one step, there was a soft knock on the door.

Yuuri froze, instantly alert, and got out of bed. Viktor walked to the door and Yuuri opened his mouth, to cry out a warning or a plea, but before he could get any words out Viktor opened the door to reveal Georgi standing in the hallway, looking terrified.

He caught sight of Yuuri in the room behind Viktor, and then turned his attention back to Viktor and said in Russian, “Vitya! Yakov just called me, Yura’s- Yura’s in the hospital?”

Viktor’s shoulders slumped, and he opened the door wider. “Come in.”

Georgi stepped in, and Viktor closed the door behind him with a long sigh. “What’s your boyfriend doing here?” Georgi muttered in a low voice, assuming Yuuri couldn’t understand him.

Viktor blushed. “He was the one who saved Yura,” he replied, and then switched to English. “Georgi heard what happened,” he told Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded. “Yakov promised to call when he hears something,” he said.

“What happened?” Georgi asked. He made to sit on Yuri’s bed, and then caught sight of the blood still on the teenager’s pillow and thought better of it.

“I witnessed him getting mugged, and stepped in,” Yuuri said in a small voice.

Georgi’s eyebrows rose. “ _You_ stepped in?” he repeated incredulously. Yuuri nodded nervously.

“Yuki learned to fight in high school,” Viktor explained, moving to rest his hand on Yuuri’s waist before seemingly thinking better of it.

“How injured is Yura?” Georgi asked with a nervous frown.

“He was bleeding,” Viktor said. “Um, I don’t think I know his exact injuries, but it was apparently bad enough to call an ambulance?”

Georgi wrung his hands helplessly. “You haven’t heard anything else?”

Viktor shook his head. “What did Yakov say?” he asked.

Georgi ran his hands through his hair. “He left a really short message, I think I slept through the ringing,” he said. “He just said that he was with Yura at the hospital, and he’d call when he has more information.” He sighed, pressing his hand to his lips. “I guess there’s not much we can do.”

“Yuki and I were going to watch a film to pass the time,” Viktor said, glancing at Yuuri, who nodded. “Do you want to join us?”

Georgi carefully eyed Yuuri, who did his best to look as non-threatening as possible and then shook his head. “No, I should sleep,” Georgi said. “But if you hear anything, you’ll let me know? I don’t want to miss anything because I slept through a call.”

Viktor nodded. Georgi gave Yuuri one last searching glance, and then turned and opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and then left with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed.

Viktor grabbed his laptop from his suitcase and then gestured to the bed. “Do you, um…”

Yuuri slid back into the bed and twitched the covers over himself, and Viktor joined him after a moment. Yuuri smiled slightly when Viktor leaned against him, putting one arm almost around his shoulders even as he opened the laptop.

“What do you want to watch?” he asked, and Yuuri shrugged, wondering if Viktor would mind if he leaned against him.

“I don’t mind. You can choose.”

Viktor picked a random romcom and set the volume low, and then balanced the laptop on their legs so they could both see before cautiously tightening his arm around Yuuri a little. Yuuri took that as an invitation and snuggled closer, leaning his head on Viktor’s shoulder. Viktor smiled down at him, looking relatively content despite his obvious exhaustion and worry.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep?” Yuuri said. His inhibitions must have been lowered in his drowsiness, because he reached up and gently cupped Viktor’s face in one hand, stroking his thumb over Viktor’s cheekbone.

Viktor leaned into the touch, but shook his head. “I’m not sure I would be able to,” he replied, unable to disguise the yawn in his voice. “But you can if you want. Please don’t let me stop you.”

“I’m OK,” Yuuri assured him, for whatever reason still gently touching Viktor’s face. He should probably stop. Viktor was probably uncomfortable, he hadn’t asked to have Yuuri randomly start touching him like they were actually dating. But Viktor’s skin was soft under his touch, and Viktor’s chest was warm against his arm, and Yuuri never wanted Viktor to stop looking at him with that gentle, caring light in his eyes.

Viktor cracked a small smile and pulled Yuuri close against him, turning his face so he could kiss Yuuri’s palm. Yuuri blushed bright red, and Viktor chuckled lowly.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked and Yuuri nodded, unsure if he would be able to speak around the lump of emotions in his throat.

“I’m glad,” Viktor whispered. He studied Yuuri’s face, looking conflicted, and then leaned down and kissed him carefully. Yuuri reciprocated, sliding his hand back until he was very carefully cupping the back of Viktor’s neck. Viktor made a small whimpering noise into the kiss, opening his lips a little, and Yuuri took that opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Viktor pulled away after a moment, brown knit in concern. “This is OK?” he said, looking down.

Yuuri nodded. “Yes. More than OK.”

Viktor’s eyes darted up to meet his, and then he murmured. “Can we, um… can we not go any further than kissing? I, um… it doesn’t feel… right.” He twitched one hand in the direction of Yuri’s bed, and suddenly Yuuri understood his hesitance. It wasn’t that Viktor didn’t want to kiss him, it was that for whatever reason he felt guilty about what had happened to Yuri, didn’t want to take advantage of the empty room when the reason why it was empty was so terrible.

“Of course, I understand,” Yuuri replied softly, leaning his forehead against the crook of Viktor’s neck and gently brushing his fingers over the short hairs on Viktor’s nape.

Viktor exhaled slowly, relieved. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Always,” Yuuri promised, pressing his lips to Vitor’s shoulder in a kiss meant to be more comforting than sexual.

Viktor tentatively wrapped his arms around Yuuri and pressed his face to Yuuri’s hair, breathing deeply. Yuuri traced small, slow circles with his fingertips on Viktor’s skin until Viktor’s breathing grew a bit more regular and then Viktor was kissing him again, almost desperately. Yuuri made a happy surprised noise into his mouth, and let his fingers tangle in Viktor’s soft silver hair, resting the other hand over his thumping heart.

They kissed like that for a long time, with Yuuri almost on top of Viktor, before their kisses started to slow and Yuuri felt Viktor begin to relax into the bed. Yuuri pulled away slightly, looking down at the Russian man.

While kissing they had both slumped down under the covers a bit, and Viktor was nestled between two pillows. Viktor stared back up at him, trying to pull him back in for another kiss even as his eyes dropped in exhaustion.

“Why don’t you rest your eyes for a bit?” Yuuri suggested, smoothing Viktor’s fringe away from his face before kissing his forehead.

“I… are you sure?” Viktor whispered.

Yuuri nodded, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at the other man. In the background the movie still played quietly on Viktor’s computer, pushed to the side and forgotten.

“I’m sure,” Yuuri said with a gentle smile.

Viktor’s eyes fluttered closed. “Jus’ for a moment,” he muttered. “And then I get to kiss you again.”

“Sure,” Yuuri said with a small laugh.

Viktor’s breathing quickly grew even, and Yuuri had the presence of mind to pause the movie on the computer resting by their legs and put it on the floor. He leaned against the headboard, looking down at the sleeping Viktor.

He should keep watch. It would really be a good idea to keep watch, to make sure no one came to hurt Viktor while Yuuri was there to protect him. He just had to… stay awake.

Yuuri pinched himself on the arm and then reached out and gently rested his hand on Viktor’s head, absently stroking and playing with his hair as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He would stay awake. He had to.

But maybe he could close his eyes for just a second, so they didn’t feel quite as dry. Then he would go back to watching. He would stay awake…

***

Yuuri came to slowly, tangled in the sheets of Viktor’s bed as sunlight slowly seeped through the cracks in the drawn blinds.

Sometime during the night, he had slid from his position sitting against the headboard to lie in bed next to Viktor, and the Russian man had apparently taken that opportunity to gather Yuuri into his arms. Yuuri shifted a little so Viktor’s shoulder wasn’t resting on his hand, and then closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, drinking in the moment. Viktor’s chin rested on the top of his head, one arm slung protectively over his waist, and their legs were tangled together, resting on top of each other.

Yuuri allowed himself another moment of warmth and comfort in Viktor’s arms before carefully extricating himself, fumbling for Viktor’s phone on the bedside table to see what time it was. To his surprise, the clock read just after 8:30 in the morning, and when Yuuri silently padded across the hotel room to look out the window, the sun had already risen above the horizon.

Yuuri looked down at Viktor’s phone, still clutched in one hand, and glanced at the sleeping Russian before quickly scrolling through the notifications on the screen. Among the notifications from Instagram and Twitter were three missed calls from Yakov, as well as a text instructing Viktor to call as soon as he woke up.

Yuuri winced guilty, and then after plugging Viktor’s phone back into the wall crossed the room and dug his own phone out of his pants pocket. Sure enough, he had several missed calls from Celestino, as well as texts from his coach, Phichit, Minami, and his parents.

Yuuri quickly texted Celestino back, crouching on the floor in front of his folded up clothes, letting him know where he was. After that, he tapped out a brief summary of what had happened the night before to Minami and promised to call him when he left Viktor’s hotel room so they could talk and figure out what to do.

Across the room, Viktor made a grumbling sound in his sleep and stirred before finding a pillow to clutch in Yuuri’s stead. Yuuri smiled, and then answered his parents’ congratulatory messages with a quick thanks before sitting down properly to answer Phichit, knowing it would take the longest.

Sure enough, as soon as Yuuri answered his friend’s questions of ‘are you ok’ with a simple yes, his phone began to ring. Yuuri cursed under his breath, and then quickly dashed into the bathroom and closed the door behind him before answering.

“Yuki!” Phichit gasped.

“Hey,” Yuuri said quietly, facing himself in the mirror. Under the harsh bathroom lights, his skin looked sallow and the bruise on his chin from getting punched was a mottled bluish purple. His hair was tangled and sticking up in the back, and there were obvious dark circles under his eyes, a result of his exhaustion and reduced sleep. All in all, he looked like a complete mess. Why in the world would Viktor ever want to cuddle with him?

“Yuki!” Phichit screeched in his ear. “Oh my god what happened? I tried to call you last night, and you didn’t answer, and you weren’t answering my texts, and I saw on the internet that Yuri Plisetsky was attacked by the French mafia! Is that even a thing? What’s happening?”

“Everything’s fine,” Yuuri said quietly, stepping a little further away from the door in the hopes that Phichit’s yelling wouldn’t wake Viktor. “But Yuri Plisetsky is in the hospital. It was petty muggers, though, I doubt organized crime was involved.” Although, now that Yuuri was saying it out loud, what if the attack on Yuri hadn’t been a coincidence? What if it had been some sort of distraction, or an indirect attack on Viktor?

Yuuri pushed those thoughts away for the time being as Phichit said softly, “Oh, wow. Is he going to live?”

“I assume so,” Yuuri replied, absently rubbing his bruised hand against his side. “The paramedics arrived quickly. I don’t think his injuries were too bad.”

“Wait, you sound like you were involved,” Phichit said suspiciously.

Yuuri winced. “Um, yeah, I… kind of stepped in? And scared them away? And then brought Yuri back to the hotel?”

Phichit was quiet for a very long moment, and then he whispered, “Yuki, are you hurt?”

Yuuri leaned forwards and eyed himself in the mirror, picking at his split and slightly puffy lip. “No, not really,” he answered after a beat. “Nothing more than a bruise or two. I’m fine.”

“Are you safe?” Phichit asked worriedly.

“Yes, I’m back at the hotel,” Yuuri laughed. “I stayed the night with Viktor.”

“Hm, OK,” Phichit replied teasingly, and Yuuri blushed. “Does Ciao Ciao know where you are, Yuki?” the Thai man asked.

“I already talked to him,” Yuuri replied carefully.

He heard Viktor shift in the other room, and then a soft, accented voice called, “Yuki?”

“I have to go, Phichit,” Yuuri said. “Can I call you back later?”

“Yeah, sure,” his friend replied, and then added in a soft voice, “I’m glad you’re safe, Yuki.”

Yuuri smiled in spite of himself. “Thanks. Talk to you later, Phichit.”

“You’d better,” Phichit laughed, and then hung up.

Yuuri opened the bathroom door, absently weighing his phone in his palm, to see Viktor sitting up in bed with an odd expression on his face. He looked up when Yuuri re-entered the room, and surprise flickered across his face before he gave Yuuri a bright grin. “Yuki!” he exclaimed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “You’re still here!”

Yuuri blinked. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he said hesitantly.

Viktor studied him for a long moment, his smile growing slightly artificial, and then waved a hand. “Never mind. Don’t worry about it. Hey!” He held up his phone, changing the subject. “Yakov called. Yura’s stable, and not in life-threatening condition. He apparently has a concussion and four broken or fractured ribs, but since he got to the hospital quickly they minimized the damage on his internal organs.”

Yuuri smiled in relief. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said.

Viktor hesitated, and then added, “Yakov also gave me the hospital visiting hours. Do you… do you want to come visit Yura with me? I’m sure he’d like to see you.”

Yuuri smiled slowly. “Thank you,” he replied. “I’d like to make sure he’s alright.”

Viktor smiled tentatively. “He’ll probably want to thank you,” he said. Yuuri just smiled, trying to reconcile any sort of gratitude with the prickly, irritable boy he had met before.

Viktor gave him a careful, breakable smile. “Thank you,” he said.

Yuuri smiled back, and impulsively gave Viktor a hug. “Can I meet you in the lobby in a bit?” he asked, and smiled ruefully. “I’d like to shower.”

“Of course!” Viktor exclaimed, giving Yuuri one last squeeze before stepping back. “Is forty minutes alright?”

Yuuri nodded. “That sounds just fine,” he replied.

Viktor hovered, and then leaned in and gave him a very quick kiss. “Spasibo.”

Yuuri smiled, and gave him one last kiss in return before leaving with a wave over his shoulder. As soon as he got back to his hotel room, he called Minami.

“What’s the matter?” Minami said immediately, picking up on the first ring.

“I need you to come over here,” Yuuri said in a low, urgent voice, pacing in anxious circles around the small room. “We have a situation.”

“Got it,” Minami said efficiently, all business. “I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri murmured, and hung up. He quickly set his things down on the bed and stripped on his way to the bathroom, jumping in the shower. When he got out and was in the middle of dressing there was a soft knock on the door.

Yuuri let Minami in, and then finished putting on his shirt. “I’m surprised you didn’t just let yourself in,” he teased.

Minami gave him a small smile. “I could hear the shower running, I didn’t want to walk in on you,” he replied, and then sobered. “What’s the situation?”

Yuuri sighed deeply, sitting down on his bed and tangling his fingers in his damp hair. “I blew my cover.”

“What?” Minami exclaimed, eyes comically wide. “Viktor knows? What did he say?”

“No, no, not Viktor,” Yuuri said with a sigh. He took a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then explained, “I went for a walk last night, and when I was coming back to the hotel I came across Yuri Plisetsky getting mugged. Obviously, I stepped in, but he… um, he saw what I did. And he heard me talking to Yakov, he knows something’s up. Minako gave me permission to tell him the truth. It might be helpful to have another skater in the know, someone who’s more familiar with more people than I am.”

Minami frowned. “So you’re just going to tell him the truth?” he said, and Yuuri nodded slowly.

“I’m bring my badge, tell him what I can, and make sure he’s not going to say anything to Viktor,” he said, and then looked up at his friend. “Would you mind coming with me, as backup?”

“Of course,” Minami said with a nod. Yuuri got to his feet and began to gather the things he would need, sliding his badge and ID in his jacket pocket along with his wallet and phone. On a whim, he grabbed the holster for his gun, although he left the weapon in his suitcase. He had no idea if he would need to threaten Yuri Plisetsky to keep him from spilling to Viktor, and even though Minako had given him permission to do what was necessary, he didn’t want to have to intimidate a teenager if he didn’t have to. Hopefully, verbal threats would be enough if it came down to things.

“Thanks for your help, Minami-kun,” Yuuri said once he was ready to go.

Minami grinned. “Of course. It’s my job, after all.”

“Can you meet me there, though?” Yuuri asked, pausing to look over at his friend. “I think I’m going with Viktor, it might be a good idea-”

“Of course,” Minami said smoothly. “I don’t mind. Yuri Plisetsky, right? Do you think I could pass myself off as a concerned relative?”

Yuuri snorted. “Probably not. How’s your French?”

Minami shrugged. “Passable. Not as good as yours, of course, but better than my Russian.”

“Be careful,” Yuuri said, shrugging his jacket over his shoulder and grabbing his shoes from beside the door. “Don’t blow your own cover.”

“You’ve got it, Yuuri-san,” Minami chirped, jumping to his feet. “I’ll be careful, don’t worry about me.”

Yuuri flashed him a grateful smile, and then left. He found Viktor already waiting for him in the lobby of the hotel, fidgeting anxiously and checking the time on his phone every few seconds.

The older man had clearly done something to hide the dark circles under his eyes, and he looked a lot more put together with his hair combed and his clothes changed, but there was no hiding the worry and fear in his eyes. “Yuki!” he exclaimed in relief as soon as he caught sight of Yuuri. “Are you ready to go? I’ve already called a taxi.”

“Yes, I’m ready,” Yuuri said. Just as he and Viktor walked out the door Yuuri heard the elevator door ding, and glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Minami scurry out.

Viktor held open the door of the taxi idling at the curb outside the hotel, and slid in after Yuuri. “I’m glad you’re coming with me,” he muttered almost too quietly for Yuuri to hear. He looked down at his lap, absently jiggling one knee.

Yuuri gently placed one hand on Viktor’s knee and squeezed comfortingly. Viktor froze, and slowly relaxed with a silent exhale.

“Yakov said he wasn’t in critical condition, right?” Yuuri said, hoping that it would help to reassure Viktor.

Viktor nodded. “I’m worried it’s my-” he blurted, and then cut himself off and snapped his mouth shut with an audible click.

Yuuri frowned slightly. Was Viktor worried that what had happened to Yuri was somehow his fault. “Viktor?” he said hesitantly, and Viktor gave him an empty rictus grin.

“Forget about it. I’m tired.”

Yuuri absently swiped his thumb over the slightly scratchy material of Viktor’s jeans before letting go of his knee. Viktor hesitated, and then reached out and laced his fingers with Yuuri’s. Yuuri smiled slightly, staring out the window at the passing city.

They held hands in silence for the rest of the short taxi ride to the hospital, and Viktor tangled their fingers together again once they had gotten out and the driver had been paid.

“Alright?” Yuuri checked, and Viktor nodded, eyes shuttered. He led the way into the hospital and spoke to a nurse in quiet French before she directed them to a check-in desk.

Yuuri hung back as Viktor talked to the receptionist, scanning the waiting room. He spotted a blonde and red haired figure sitting off to the side, head bowed and intently studying his phone, but as if alerted by Yuuri’s gaze the figure glanced up and winked. Yuuri smiled back slightly, even though he was a bit unsure how Minami had gotten to the hospital faster than him and Viktor, and then turned his attention back to his companion just as Viktor gently touched his arm.

“Come with me,” he said, and Yuuri followed him up two flights of stairs and down a drab hallway to a slightly ajar door. Viktor gently tapped on the doorframe, and then nudged the door open a bit more.

In the small room sat Yakov, who looked like he had aged about ten years in one night, and next to him in a narrow hospital bed lay the injured Yuri Plisetsky. The boy looked terribly young and frail, tucked in by crisp white sheets with a visible bandage wrapped around his bare chest, but the illusion was broken as soon as the teenager scowled.

“What the fuck is Katsudon doing here?” he snapped in Russian, eyeing Yuuri suspiciously.

“He wanted to make sure you were alright,” Viktor said through gritted teeth, but Yuuri could hear the relief in his voice. Yuri was injured, yes, but he still had the energy to curse and snarl, so things couldn’t be too bad.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Yuuri said softly, stepping back and letting go of Viktor’s hand.

Viktor glanced sideways at him. “Are you sure?” Yuuri nodded.

“Here, Vitya, have a seat,” Yakov said, getting to his feet with a small groan. “I’ll make sure Nakamura doesn’t get into any trouble while you two talk.”

Viktor chewed on his lip hesitantly, and then sat in the chair his coach had vacated. Yakov gave Yuuri a heavy look, as if daring him to protest, and then gestured him out of the hospital room. Yuuri gulped nervously, licked his dry lips, and the followed, closing the door behind him.

As soon as they were alone, Yakov said seriously, “Thank you.”

Yuuri blinked, surprised. “Sorry?” he said, letting his Japanese accent drop. “What… why are you thanking me?”

Yakov took off his hat, absently worrying the brim in his hands as he avoided Yuuri’s eyes. “The doctors said that if you hadn’t stepped in, Yura would probably have died,” he said in a low voice. “They said even if the muggers hadn’t killed him, he may very well have died in that alley. So thank you.”

Yuuri shrugged awkwardly. “Of course. It’s kind of my job.”

Yakov nodded once. “Thanks aside,” he said, eyes glinting. “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at with Vitya?”

Yuuri just barely resisted the urge to wince. “Um, I-” he stammered.

Yakov exhaled loudly. “I’d rather he be going out with someone I know isn’t going to knife him in his sleep,” the man said. “But are your feelings for him going to get in the way of doing your job?”

“We’re- we’re not actually together, we’ve, um, we’ve just gone on a few dates,” Yuuri tried to hedge. “I don’t think feelings-”

Yakov raised one eyebrow, looking incredibly unimpressed, and Yuuri stopped. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then said, “Listen, maybe it’s unconventional, but I won’t let any feelings get in the way of doing my job to protect Viktor as best I can. I will still do my utmost to keep him safe, sir, and it might even be helpful if he’s with me instead of with someone you don’t know you can trust. I-” He swallowed hard. “I know it’s not going to last, but while Viktor is interested in me I will make sure to stay close to him and make sure no harm comes to him. That’s always been my goal.”

Yakov studied him seriously, and then nodded just slightly. “As long as no harm comes to Vitya,” he said, and then pressed his lips together before adding, “And yourself as well.”

Yuuri held his breath for a moment, and then slowly let it out. “I’ll do my best, but his safety is more important,” he said.

Yakov looked like he was on the brink of protesting, but just nodded when Yuuri’s gaze didn’t falter. “Just please don’t break his heart,” he murmured.

Yuuri’s brow furrowed. “Break Viktor’s heart?” he said. “I couldn’t do that. He… he doesn’t think of me like that.”

Yakov didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then the silence was interrupted by raised voices from inside the hospital room, only slightly muffled by the closed door. “I should interrupt that,” Yakov sighed. Yuuri smiled slightly, and Yakov opened the door with a scowl.

“-fucking stupid idiot, you think I don’t know that-!” Yuri was shouting at the calm, patient Viktor sitting next to him.

“Yura!” Yakov snapped and Yuri shut up, although not without a furious scowl. “Vitya, what did you do?” Yakov sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Fucking rubbing it in my face, what a fucking dick,” Yuri growled, gingerly crossing his arms over his chest.

“I asked him if he was going to be able to compete in the Grand Prix Finals,” Viktor said mildly, but there was a trade of something almost like pity in his tone.

Yuri huffed angrily. “I have fucking broken ribs you absolute fuckwad. Do you fucking think I’ll be able to fucking skate? Useless sack of monkey shit.” Viktor sighed heavily, rubbing one hand over his mouth.

“Viktor, why don’t you go get a coffee from the hospital cafeteria?” Yakov suggested, not unkindly. “I’ll go with you.”

Viktor pressed his lips together, eyes darting to Yuuri. “Yuki?”

Yakov opened his mouth, probably to invent an excuse why Yuuri should stay to talk to Yuri, but the teenager bet him to it. “I want to talk to him,” Yuri said sullenly, eyes narrowed. “Thank him, or some shit like that.”

“He wants to thank you,” Viktor said in English, and Yuuri realized that he shouldn’t have been able to understand their Russian.

“Um, right,” he mumbled. “Um, where are you going?”

“I’m going to get coffee, do you want any?” Viktor asked, getting to his feet with a soft light in his eyes.

“N-no, I’m fine,” Yuuri replied. Viktor reached out in an aborted move to cup Yuuri’s face, and then settled on patting him on the shoulder. “Good luck,” Yuuri thought he heard Viktor mumble, and then the two Russians were gone, leaving him with the small, angry skater.

“So whatever the fuck this is, Yakov is in on it?” Yuri said before Yuuri even got the chance to sit.

“Uh?” Yuuri said intelligently, blinking.

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid. He was about to make up some shit about why you should stay while he distracted Viktor. And last night, he didn’t seem surprised that you’re a fucking ninja.”

Yuuri settled himself with a careful sigh, but before he could say anything there was a tap on the door and then Minami stuck his head in. “Where do you want me, Yuuri-san?” he asked seriously.

“Would you keep watch?” Yuuri requested, only mildly surprised to see his friend.

“Got it,” Minami said, giving him a salute, and then vanished again.

“What the fuck,” Yuri said, and when Yuuri glanced at him he saw that the boy’s eyes were still fixed on the door. “Who’s he? What language was that, Japanese?”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “Well, that is where I’m from.” Yuri gave him a silent, baleful glare.

“Alright, message received,” Yuuri chuckled, and then sobered as he pulled his badge out of the inside pocket of his coat. “My name is Agent Katsuki Yuuri. I work for Interpol.” He offered the badge to Yuri, who snatched it from his hands and held it close to his face, eyes darting between Yuuri’s ID photo and his face.

“What?” he said after a long moment, voice trembling.

“About seven months ago Yakov Feltsman alerted Interpol that your rink mate, Viktor Nikiforov, had been receiving threats that he believed were authentic,” Yuuri explained patiently, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward slightly. “Interpol assigned me to go undercover and skate with the name Nakamura Yuki in order to keep an eye on Viktor and protect him during competitions, when it was believed he would be at the most risk.”

“So you’re… a spy?” Yuri said uncertainly, suddenly sounding younger than his fifteen years.

Yuuri gently took his badge back from Yuri’s limp fingers, nodding. “I guess you could call me a spy,” he replied.

Yuri stared at him in disbelief. “But you’re so… boring?”

Yuuri smiled ruefully. “I’m not exactly James Bond,” he said with a small shrug. “I’m just trying to do my job and protect Viktor to the best of my abilities.”

Yuri swallowed hard, looking down at his fingernails as if unconcerned. Yuuri didn’t miss that his hands were trembling. “If you’re such a super secret spy, why are you telling me?”

Yuuri rubbed his mouth, considering.  He didn't want Yuri to think he was going to hurt him for finding out Interpol's secrets, but the teenager  _needed_ to stay quiet. “I got permission from my handler to fill you in,” he said finally. “You saw a lot, when I rescued you last night. Most figure skaters shouldn’t be able to fight like I can. And, well… my handler, Minako, thinks it might be useful to have someone who knows a lot of figure skaters providing information.”

Yuri swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Does Viktor know?” he asked in a small voice.

Yuuri shook his head. “He can’t know,” he said. “If he does, it could jeopardize the entire mission.”

Yuri looked up at him, anger burning in his eyes. “So you’re playing with him?” he spat. “Pretending to like him for the sake of your job?”

Yuuri exhaled slowly, color flooding his cheeks. “I promise you, this isn’t a game,” he murmured. “Not in any sense of the word.”

Yuri stared at him, and then breathed, “Viktor’s going to fucking kill you when he finds out." Yuuri couldn't tell if the teenager was horrified or elated with the notion.

“It- it’ll be worth it, if he’s safe,” Yuuri said shakily.

Yuri pressed his lips together. “So this… this isn’t an elaborate prank?” he said uncertainly. “Mila didn’t put you up to this?”

Yuuri shook his head. “I’ve never met Mila,” he said quietly.

“Yakov’s not really the pranking type anyway,” Yuri mumbled, almost to himself. “Gets his blood pressure up too high. Fucking stupid old man.”

“Do I have your word that you won’t say anything to Viktor about this?” Yuuri pressed. This was why he was here, most of all- to make sure Yuri would stay quiet.

Yuri looked up, caught his eye. “What do I get if I do?”

Yuuri hardened his expression. “I would hope that the safety of your rink mate would be enough,” he said coldly. “Especially since we have no idea whether or not the people threatening Viktor may want to extend their influence.”

Yuri paled slightly, but didn’t look away. Yuuri shifted slightly in his seat, so Yuri would be able to see his shoulder holster under his coat. It was empty, but Yuri didn’t need to know that. “Besides, Interpol has other ways to make sure our secrets stay secret,” Yuuri said significantly. “You have a grandfather, correct?”

Yuri’s eyes widened. “You can threaten me all you want, but don't bring my grandfather into this,” he snarled.

Yuuri fiddled with his badge, eyes on Yuri. “I’m certainly not threatening anyone… I don’t think I need to, do I?”

Yuri stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded slowly. “No,” he said softly, defeated. “No threats necessary.” Yuuri nodded, relaxing slightly. He didn’t like threatening people, even if Minami claimed he looked ‘scary and badass’ while doing so.

“When are you going to tell Viktor, though?” Yuri asked quietly. Yuuri sighed. “As soon as we’re sure we’ve caught the people who want to hurt him,” he replied. “I mean, I’m not actually a professional figure skater. I’ll have other jobs to do.”

“How do you skate so well, then?” Yuri asked with a frown. “If you’re actually a spy. No one can learn to skate quickly enough to win bronze in a Grand Prix event, not even Viktor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri smiled slightly. “I was a figure skater as a teenager, before I decided to work for Interpol,” he explained. “I’ve kept my skills up enough that Interpol and the ISU thought I was qualified enough to take this particular undercover job.” He steepled his fingers, and then said seriously, “Yuri, I need to ask you some questions about what happened last night, now that we’ve established that you need to be honest with me for the sake of Viktor’s safety. What happened?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I was hanging out in Georgi’s room, since Viktor was being a huge turd,” he said sullenly. “And then Georgi started trying to call his ex, so I left because I really don’t want to be involved in that shit. And then I decided to take a walk because Yakov wouldn’t want me to, and got mugged. That’s it.”

“You didn’t see or hear anything suspicious?” Yuuri pressed. “Phone calls, letters, people following you? No one forced you out of the hotel?”

“Unless my dumb rink mates being stupid counts, no,” Yuri snapped. “Why? You think what happened to me is related to what’s happening with Viktor?”

Yuuri hesitated. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “We can’t be sure of anything quite yet.”

Yuri picked at a fingernail. “Do you really think they’ll come after me as well?” he mumbled. “Or Georgi, or Mila, or Yakov?”

Yuuri bit his lip. He had no idea how to assure Yuri when he could barely even assure himself. “I don’t know,” he repeated helplessly, and Yuri stiffened slightly.

“Like I would care, anyway,” he snapped. “I can fucking watch out for myself.”

Yuuri smiled, giving him the out. “You can.”

Yuri eyed him, and then said with a bit more of his usual anger back in his voice, “So your name is actually Yuri.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Sure, yes.”

“I’m still not fucking calling you that,” Yuri said, eyes glinting. “Be badass and ‘save’ me all you want, I’m still calling you that dumb pork cutlet bowl you like.”

“Mature, Yura,” Viktor said from the doorway, walking into the room with a sigh, and Yuuri silently thanked the powers that be that Viktor hadn’t walked in earlier. “Coffee?” Viktor said, offering Yuuri one of the travel cups in his hand with a tired smile.

Yuuri smiled gratefully back. "Thank you, Viktor," he said, accepting the drink and taking a sip.

Viktor raised an eyebrow at Yuri. "So are you actually going to thank him for saving your ass?"

Yuri scowled, opening his mouth to spew what was surely a blistering retort, but Yuuri beat him to it.

“Ah, it’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he said quickly. “He already thanked me.”

Viktor gave him a small smile. “If you’re sure.”

Yuuri swallowed, hiding his blushing face behind his coffee cup. “I’m sure,” he replied. “I’ve received all the thanks I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: One character gets into a fight with three others, all of whom are injured in the process in varying degrees. One character gets shot in the shoulder. Another (main) character sustains injuries that are not life threatening.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter will be on or around March 3rd (sorry!). Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	11. Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuri learns something he didn't know, Phichit makes a decision, and Viktor nears his breaking point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience on this chapter! I won't even disguise the fact that this is mostly filler with a bit of plot mixed in ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Yuri had been back in Russia for about a day before he realized exactly why the name Katsuki Yuuri sounded so familiar, and it took several seconds of staring at the grimy rink floor to nail the thought down completely.“Holy shit,” he whispered, eyes widening as a memory of an old newspaper article solidified, and quickly dug his phone out of his bag beside him.

“What is it, Yura?” Georgi asked from where he was sitting next to Yuri.

Despite the fact that he was banned from the ice until his ribs and concussion healed, even though he was missing valuable practice time for Worlds, Yuri was insistent on coming into the rink for a bit every day, if only to heckle his rink mates.And for whatever reason, Georgi had taken to sitting with him on his breaks, as if he thought Yuri was a small, lonely, injured boy who just wanted company.

Yuri ignored his rink mate as with trembling fingers typed in ‘yuuri katsuki free skate junior worlds 2013’ and clicked on the first video that popped up.“Holy shit,” he muttered again, squinting at the small screen of his phone as the skater on the screen launched himself into an elegant triple lutz, landing with a flourish before transitioning into a sequence of quick, smooth steps without missing a beat.

“Who’s that?” Georgi asked, looking over his shoulder with a curious frown, and then his breath caught in Yuri’s ear.“Wait, is that _Katsuki Yuuri_?”

Yuri paused the video, looking up in surprise.“What?”

Georgi’s brow furrowed as he looked down at Yuri’s phone.“It is, isn’t it?”He smiled slightly.“I would recognize those step sequences anywhere.”

Yuri blinked.“Wait, what?” he said.“You know him?”

Georgi shrugged.“You know, Katsuki’s step sequences remind me a lot of Nakamura Yuki’s,” he said in a level, guarded voice.

Without meaning to Yuri flinched, and Georgi’s eyes widened.“So you know?” he said in a rushed whisper, leaning a little closer.

Yuri swallowed hard, shutting on his phone.“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Georgi raised one eyebrow.“Yuri, you don’t have to pretend not to understand,” he said.“I know.”

Yuri stayed silent.

Georgi pressed his lips together, glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, and then whispered, “I know that Nakamura Yuki is Katsuki Yuuri.”

Yuri gaped at him.“Wait, you _what?”_ he gasped.

Georgi chewed on his lip for a moment, looking out at the ice.In the middle of the rink, Viktor was skating in slow circles, staring at the ceiling while Yakov lectured him.In a different corner off the ice, Mila was in the middle of stretching before beginning her practice time.

“I figured it out a bit ago,” Georgi admitted.

Yuri exhaled slowly through his nose, and then murmured, “How?”

Georgi eyed him.“You’re too young to have ever competed against him, but _I_ did,” he said.“My last year in the junior division, I barely beat him out for silver at Worlds.And then two years later he won the Junior World Championships, and afterwards basically disappeared off the face of the earth.So I’m sure you can imagine how surprised I was when Vitya went out on a date with a man I hadn’t seen in years.”

“You recognized him?” Yuri said.

Georgi shrugged.“Not immediately, no,” he said.“He’s grown up a lot.He looks different.But I did recognize his style as soon as he stepped out onto the ice at the Cup of France.And then I did some research.Do you know who he works for now?”

Yuri nodded slowly, reeling.Georgi… knew?He knew, and he hadn’t told anyone?He must have known for at least a week, and he hadn’t said anything?

“He, ah-” Yuri stammered, and then licked his dry lips before continuing, “He said he works for Interpol.”

“Right,” Georgi confirmed.“And I expect he’s here about the threats Vitya has been getting?”Yuri simply nodded.

“Do they know anything?” Georgi asked with a concerned frown.

“What, you don’t already know?” Yuri snapped bitterly.He couldn’t believe that _Georgi_ , of all people, had figured out that Nakamura Yuki was a spy before _him_.Georgi, the most incompetent and ridiculous skater under Yakov’s tutelage, was apparently Sherlock fucking Holmes.

Georgi’s frown deepened.“No one tells me anything,” he said.“Vitya refuses to talk about it, and when I asked Yakov he told me to mind my own business and focus on my free leg.So did Yuuri say anything to you?Does Interpol know anything?”

Yuri sighed.“That stupid fucking pig wouldn’t tell me anything either,” he said, and then rolled his eyes.“But he fucking gave me his phone number, and he wants me to call him if I see anything suspicious, so I don’t think they have any clue.”

Georgi rubbed his chin.“That’s not good,” he said, and then he focused on Yuri.“I’m worried about Vitya,” he admitted in a low voice, looking down at his hands.“He… he needs help.I hope Yuuri will be able to keep him safe.”

Yuri looked up just in time to see Viktor whirl into a combination spin with a small smile on his face, the echo of his blades scraping on the ice filling the open rink.“Anyway,” Georgi said, leaning back and speaking at a more normal, less suspicious volume.“Enough of that.Do you want me to walk you home, or is your grandfather coming to pick you up?”

“Grandpa’s working,” Yuri replied, guilt twinging in his chest.He hated this injury, _hated_ it.His grandfather would have to work more hours now that Yuri wasn’t able to compete for prize money, now that a few of his sponsors had abandoned him in his failure to reach the Grand Prix Finals.

"I'd be happy to make sure you get home alright, I'm sure Yakov wouldn't mind," Georgi said.  

“No, it’s fine,” Yuri sighed, rolling his eyes.“Viktor said he would bring me home when his practice is over at noon.I’m fine waiting.”

“Alright,” Georgi said, and then got to his feet and gave him a small smile.“Please take care of yourself, Yura,” he said.“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever, Georgi,” Yuri mumbled, rolling his eyes harder and looking down at his phone.“Go fucking practice, maybe you’ll make the top thirty at Worlds.”

“What an insult,” Georgi chuckled before heading in Yakov’s direction.

Yuri stayed where he was, staring down at the floor between his feet with a frown on his face.Now that he thought about it, Katsuki had said something about being a competitive figure skater in the past at the hospital when he was telling Yuri the truth about his identity.Yuri hadn’t really taken him seriously, but now that he knew, it almost didn’t seem… fair.It didn’t seem fair, that someone could be a secret agent _and_ a decent figure skater.

But Yuri _wasn’t_ jealous.That wouldn’t be stupid.He wasn’t jealous of a stupid pig who could apparently beat up three grown men and barely break a sweat the same day he had won an international bronze in an ISU competition.

“Why the long face, Yura?” someone teased from behind him, and Yuri looked up with a scowl at a grinning Viktor.

“Shut your stupid fucking trap, old man,” he snapped.“What do you want?”

Viktor just raised an eyebrow.“I’m done with practice,” he said.“Do you still want me to walk you home?”

Yuri scowled.“I don’t _want_ to spend extra time with you."He sighed and rolled his eyes, heaving himself to his feet."But who am I to disappoint the wonderful Viktor Nikiforov?"

Viktor's smile flickered slightly at that, but he didn't say anything when he caught Yuri's arm to stop him from falling over."Please be careful," he said quietly."You already have one concussion, let's not make it two."

Yuri shrugged him off with a ferocious scowl, and limped in the direction of the locker room."Are you coming or what?"

Viktor followed him a moment later, skates hanging loosely from one hand, a tiny frown on his face.Yuri shoved open the door to the locker room, careful to hide his wince from Viktor, and then plopped down on a bench and pretended to do something on his phone so he wouldn’t have to talk to Viktor.

“How are your ribs doing?” the older man asked quietly as he fiddled with his locker, ruining Yuri’s plan.

“Fine,” Yuri grunted.“I might be able to get to Worlds if I don’t stress them or some shit.”

“Are you sure you should be coming to the rink every day?” Viktor pressed, pausing for a moment.Yuri was sure that if he looked up he would see Viktor staring at him with stupid pity in his eyes.

“I’m.Fine,” Yuri said in a tight voice.

Viktor sighed quietly.“Alright.”He fiddled for another second with his lock and then opened the locker, digging through the contents for whatever he was looking forward.

It was because of Viktor’s distraction that Yuri was the only one of the two to notice the little scrap of paper that slipped out of Viktor’s locker when he opened it and drifted to the floor.Yuri looked up at Viktor, who was scowling at shirt, and then got up and shuffled over to pick up the paper, a quarter sheet of what looked like plain printer paper with a few lines of black text.

He only got a glimpse of a fraction of it- _will not hesitate to hurt those around you, Mr. Nikifo_ \- before Viktor snatched it from his hand.

“Viktor, what is that?” Yuri spat, eyes wide, one hand unconsciously coming up to clutch at his fractured ribs.If that said what he thought it had said… if that meant what he thought it meant…

Viktor looked down at the paper crumpled in his palm, face blank as he scanned the words printed there.“It’s nothing,” he said dismissively.

“It looked decidedly like something,” Yuri insisted.

Viktor clenched his fist, the paper crinkling, and then shoved the wad of paper in his bag.“It’s nothing,” he said again, voice flat, and then closed his locker door with a slam.“I’m going to shower quickly.Are you going to wait?”

Yuri nodded, mouth dry.“Yeah, but Viktor-”

Without another word, without even waiting for Yuri to finish his sentence, Viktor turned on his heel and stalked off to the showers, a towel and change of clothes in hand.

Yuri stared after him, seething, and then slumped with defeat. He just didn’t have it in him to get mad, really, seriously mad, at Viktor anymore.Yuri swallowed hard, looking back down at his phone for lack of anything else to do.  But he couldn’t ignore the sinking pit of dread forming in his stomach.

***

Phichit was at the Detroit apartment alone when Yuki’s cell phone began to ring, doing his homework at the table and eating leftovers from dinner the night before.He startled when the phone began to buzz on the counter where Yuki seemed to have forgotten it, and after a moment of indecision jumped up to get it.Yuki was at class, and he wouldn’t be back for another hour, but Phichit could take a message for him.

He answered the phone just before the answering machine picked up with a hurried, “Hello?”

“Katsudon?” a vaguely familiar, heavily accented voice said in on the other end.The voice sounded irritated, but there was a clear current of underlying fear.Phichit must have made a sound, because the voice continued, “There’s been another threat, why the fuck can’t you-”

“Um, sorry, this isn’t Yuki,” Phichit said quickly, remarkably confused. He paused, and then said incredulously as the owner of the voice registered, “Is this… is this Yuri Plisetsky?”

“Chulanont?” Yuri Plisetsky snapped, and Phichit could practically hear the scowl in his voice.“Where’s Yuki?”

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“He’s at class, and he forgot his phone at the apartment,” he said cautiously.“Can I take a message?”

Yuri was silent for so long that Phichit was almost convinced he had hung up.“Can you tell him to call me back?” the Russian boy said finally, subdued.

“Sure thing,” Phichit replied, looking down at his fingernails, and then asked with what surely sounded like forced nonchalance, “What do you want him for, though?I didn’t get the impression you two were friends.”

“We’re not!” Yuri snapped immediately, and there was another long pause before he said, “I mean, um.Don’t tell him we’re friends.”

“What do you mean by threat?” Phichit pressed.“You called about a threat.”

“I thought you were going to give him the message, not give me a fucking interrogation,” Yuri griped.

Phichit waited.He knew he could wait in silence long enough for Yuri to get uncomfortable and give in.  Sure enough it only took a minute or two of dead silence before Yuri replied, “We’re playing a video game together.That’s the threat.Someone attacked our base.”

“Hm,” Phichit murmured.He knew Yuki did occasionally play video games, but he hadn’t noticed any particular uptick in his roommate’s gaming since they had met Yuri Plisetsky.

“Don’t sound so fucking skeptical,” Yuri snarled.

Phichit raised an eyebrow, just barely biting back with the sarcastic retort on the tip of his tongue.“I’m certainly not skeptical,” he said mildly.“I’ll let Yuki know when he gets back.Anything else I can do for you?”

“No,” Yuri said quickly, and then hung up without saying goodbye.

Phichit stared down at the blinking ‘End Call’ button on his friend’s phone, and then slowly set the device down before returning to his seat.He shoveled a spoonful of lunch into his mouth, staring sightlessly down at the rough wooden grain of the table, and then pushed the bowl away.He wasn’t hungry anymore.He couldn’t be hungry, not when there were mysteries piling up around him to be solved.

Phichit sat at the table for a while without moving, long enough that his butt began to fall asleep, before getting up to pace in circles around their small kitchen.Yuri Plisetsky and Nakamura Yuki playing video games together, friendly enough or invested enough in the game together that Yuri would pay for an international call in order to call Yuki about whatever game they were playing… something about the whole thing just didn’t ring true.Phichit couldn’t exactly put his finger on what bothered him about it, but there was definitely something that seemed off.Something that seemed _suspicious_.

He must have paced around for twenty minutes at least, thoughts looping over the same suspicious path, before the front door opened with a jingle keys and a cheerful, unintelligible greeting from Yuki.In a flash Phichit was back at the table, scratching out a math problem on his paper and eating the cold remains of his lunch, a picture of innocence that Yuki didn’t even blink at when he entered.

“Hey, do you have practice today?” Yuki asked with a smile.

Phichit looked up at his friend and managed to grin.“Yeah, at two.You?”

“Later,” Yuki said with a nod, and bent over to dig through the refrigerator for something to eat.“You’re eating pretty late.”

“Got distracted,” Phichit said with a laugh, and it wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. Yuki shrugged.

“Oh, hey,” Phichit said in what he hoped sounded like an absent voice, starting the next problem of his homework.“Yuri Plisetsky called you earlier?Something about a video game?”

He glanced up through his eyelashes just in time to witness the flash of pure fear that flashed across Yuki’s face before his expression went back to neutral.“Oh, OK,” he said calmly.“Thanks.I should call him back.”He picked up his phone from the counter and flashed Phichit a smile.“Thanks, Phichit.”

Phichit smiled back.“Of course.” He stayed where he was when Yuki wandered off in the direction of his room, and then silently crept after him as soon as he heard the door close.He pressed his ear against the door in time to hear Yuki say something in a different language, almost to quiet to hear.

Phichit frowned.It didn’t sound like any of the Japanese he had heard Yuki speak, and it wouldn’t make sense for Yuri Plisetsky to know Japanese anyway.Could it be... was Yuki speaking Russian?But there would be no reason for Yuki to know Russian either. Phichit padded back to the kitchen with a frown, and by the time Yuki returned he had finished eating and was washing his dishes at the sink.

“Everything alright?” he asked, looking over his shoulder to meet Yuki’s eyes as his roommate entered.

Yuki gave him a smile that seemed slightly strained.“Yes, everything is fine.It was not anything important.”

Phichit suppressed a frown.“Alright.”

“I have some homework to do,” Yuki said, getting a glass from the cupboard and leaning over Phichit’s shoulder to fill it from the tap, all the while avoiding Phichit’s eyes.“I’ll see you at the rink later?”

Phichit nodded, putting his bowl by the slightly damp towel next to the sink that they used as a drying rack to dry off.“See you later.”

Apparently satisfied Yuki wandered off again, murmuring something under his breath that didn’t sound like English _or_ Japanese.Phichit sat down at the table, mind churning, and finished his homework before he let himself think.

Yuki was apparently in communication with Yuri Plisetsky about something that Phichit was pretty sure wasn’t video games.He could apparently speak _another_ foreign language (presumably Russian) well enough to hold a conversation in it, yet he claimed to struggle with English and still had a pretty thick accent.Something seemed off... so the only reasonable solution would be to keep an eye on Yuki and try to figure out what the hell was going on.But Yuki would be going to Moscow for Rostelecom.So there was only one logical course of action left.

Mind made up, Phichit got to his feet and padded out of the kitchen to Yuki’s room.He lingered outside for a moment staring at the ajar door, and then gently pushed it open.

“Hey, Yuki,” Phichit said casually, leaning against his roommate’s door with a smile.

Yuki looked up from where he was sitting on his bed scribbling in a notebook with an odd expression on his face.“Hi, Phichit,” he said with a small, welcoming smile.“Um, what’s up?”

Phichit took that as an invitation to enter his friend’s room and flop on the bed, although he didn’t miss how Yuki quickly shut the notebook and shuffled the papers next to him into a pile face down.Phichit stared up at the ceiling, and then said, “Would you mind if I came with you to Russia?”

Yuki blinked.“You mean, like, for competition?” he said uncertainly, and Phichit nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes fixed above him rather than on Yuki’s face.“You came to support me in Milwaukee, I want to return the favor.And it would be awesome to see you skate in competition before the Finals, so I know what I’m up against when you qualify.”

“It’s not a sure thing, Phichit,” Yuki said with a small, awkward chuckle.

Phichit snorted.“Please,” he said.“Viktor Nikiforov himself would agree with me.”He glanced over just in time to see Yuki blush, and grinned triumphantly.

“Isn’t Russia a little far, though?” Yuki said, fiddling the the corner of his notebook.“I mean, the flight to Milwaukee was less than two hours.Getting to Russia will take more than twelve.”

Phichit nodded.“I know,” he said.“I already talked to Ciao Ciao, though, he’s alright with it.”That was a blatant lie, but hopefully Phichit would be able to talk to his coach before Yuki did.Celestino would understand, he was more than used to Phichit’s odd bouts of stubbornness.

Yuki raised an eyebrow.“Isn’t Seung-gil competing in Russia as well?” he asked with a small, teasing smile.

Phichit blushed.That hadn’t even occurred to him.“I think so, yeah.”

Yuki grinned.“Hm.”

Phichit covered his face in embarrassment.“I’m not flying to Russia for a booty call!” he said, voice a little higher in his distress.“I want to support you, really!”

Yuki laughed, adjusting his seat in bed a little.“I know.I’d be happy to have you there with me, if you’re sure you can afford the lost practice time.”

Phichit nodded quickly.“Don’t worry about me,” he said, and grinned.“I’ll still have time to prepare to beat you in the Finals after your competition.”

Yuki chuckled.“If you say so.”

Phichit ran his fingers through his hair and changed his stance slightly, but he couldn’t get a glimpse of whatever Yuki had been working on before he had come in.“I’ll let you finish your homework,” he said.

Yuki smiled, looking back down at his notes.“I’ll see you at the rink, then.”

Phichit left as Yuki shuffled his papers and picked up his pen again.He didn’t let himself exhale until he was in his own room with the door locked, and then only stayed still for a moment before picking up his phone and dialing Celestino.

His coach picked up on the third ring with his usual “Ciao Ciao,” and Phichit immediately blurted, “I’m coming with you and Yuki to Russia.”

Celestino was silent for long enough that Phichit managed to half-convince himself that the coach had passed out from shock, and said, “Um. Coach?”

“Why?” Celestino said in a measured, level voice.He sounded like he was very carefully keeping some strong emotion under wraps, but Phichit couldn’t be sure exactly what that emotion _was_.

“I want to support Yuki,” Phichit said in an equally careful voice.“I already talked to him, he said he’d love to have me there.”

Celestino was quiet for another long moment, and then said, “Can you spare the time?You may not be able to get on the ice.Yuki and I are leaving in two days, this is very last minute, Phichit.”

“Not any more last minute than Yuki was when he wanted to come see me skate in Milwaukee,” Phichit countered.“I don’t see the difference.”

“Yuki’s not-” Celestino said and then abruptly cut himself off.“If you’re sure you can handle it, that’s fine with me.Do you want help with the plane ticket or are you going to pay for it on your own?”

Phichit hesitated.“On my own,” he decided.He could afford to give up fancy coffee and expensive takeout for a few months if it meant he would finally figure out what the hell was going on with Yuki.

He was willing to make sacrifices if it meant he could finally know the truth.

***

Viktor sighed quietly, turning his head to stare out the window of the taxi he and Yakov had caught together from the airport to where the would be staying to the Rostelecom Cup, and then leaned his cheek against the cool window and half-closed his eyes.

For what seemed like the first time in a long time, he was actually excited about a qualifying competition.It had been years, maybe, since Viktor had eagerly anticipated a competition before the Grand Prix Finals or Worlds, and it was surprisingly nice to be able to look forward to something comparatively small.

He was going to win, of course.He already knew that.The only person who might be able to challenge him was Christophe Giacometti, and Chris tended to save his best performance for the Grand Prix Finals.Even Yuki, who was horribly underscored compared to the kind of beautiful performances he gave, wouldn’t be able to get gold against him with only one quad.

But… despite the impending win, which he knew would normally put him in a hazy, numb state for most of the competition, Viktor couldn’t help but actually _look forward_ to the competition.He would get to see Chris, who he hadn’t seen in person since Worlds, and he would get to see Yuki, who he hadn’t kissed in a few days.Viktor decided he very much missed kissing Yuki.He would have to do it as soon as he saw him.

“Vitya, get your head out of the clouds,” Yakov snapped.

Viktor frowned.“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yakov glared at him, and gestured irately.“Please concentrate on what I’m trying to tell you.”

Viktor pressed his lips together.Despite being in a taxi with Yakov, he hadn’t even registered that the other man was speaking.“Yes?” he said pointedly.

Yakov looked like he was an inch away from exploding, but after a long moment and a deep breath just said, “I want you to concentrate on the competition.That means no fooling around.You can’t afford to slack off if you’re going to make it to the Finals.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“I’ll be fine,” he said.“Have I ever fooled around at a competition before?”

Yakov just gave him a doubtful look.“I promise,” Viktor said with a small smile, raising one hand.“Even Chris can’t convince me to fool around.”

Yakov looked like he wanted to disagree, but only waved a hand to dismiss the thought.“If you say so.And that means no fooling around with Nakamura, either.”

Viktor just barely stopped himself from pouting.“Why not?”

“Because he needs to concentrate too,” Yakov said with surprising vehemence.“If you’re distracting him, he may not skate his best.Don’t you want him at the Finals?”

“Of… of course,” Viktor stammered, taken aback.“I… didn’t know you cared so much, Yakov.”

Some strange emotion flickered across Yakov’s face, and he relaxed slightly in his seat.“I don’t.But for whatever reason you’ve gotten attached to that boy, and I don’t want him to distract you from winning.”

Viktor sighed quietly.“He won’t distract me, Yakov, don’t worry,” he said.“I can spend time with people I like and still do well.”

“And no going drinking until after the competition, as well,” Yakov said sternly, scowling at Viktor from underneath the brim of his hat.

Viktor opened his mouth to protest, to point out that he was an _adult_ and could do as he pleased, but before he could say anything their taxi pulled up in front of the hotel they were staying in while in Moscow.“I expect you to behave in a way befitting of your country,” Yakov said with a frown, and then got out of the taxi.

Viktor sighed heavily and followed his coach, taking custody of his own bags and pasting a smile on his face in case there were any members of the press around.He wouldn’t want any tabloids to get a trace of his unhappiness, or everything he had worked for for years would fall apart.That was a private part of himself, something that no one else could know about.

Viktor followed Yakov inside the hotel, making sure to smile extra brightly whenever someone seemed to recognize him, and waited impatiently from Yakov to check them in before he was handed his room key.“I’m right next door,” Yakov reminded him as they got in the elevator together.“I will know if you bring someone back to your room to sleep with them.”

Viktor didn’t even bother to try to hide his exasperation.“Do you really think that’s necessary to say?”

“I know you don’t want to think about it, but I’m doing this for your own wellbeing,” Yakov said.“After that last threat-” 

Viktor held up a hand, cutting him off.“No,” he said quickly.“No, we’re not talking about that.It’s nothing to worry about.”

Yakov frowned.“Vitya-”

Viktor turned his face away and pointedly ignored him until they reached their floor, and stalked off in the direction of his room without waiting for his elderly coach.It wasn’t until he was locked inside his own room and the shades were drawn that Viktor allowed himself to break, allowed his facade to slip as fear engulfed him.

He couldn’t talk about the newest threat, the one he had found in his locker at the rink, a private place no one but skaters should be able to get to.

He couldn’t talk about the threat, not the one that had threatened to hurt his coach, his rink mates, his _dog_ , if he didn’t give in and stop competing.

Viktor sat down on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands.Even surrounded by people at the rink, he couldn’t shake a sense of vulnerability.They might get hurt, everyone he cared about might get hurt, if he didn’t give this up.

So maybe he should.

Maybe he should just give up, drop out.If he thought it might help, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Viktor exhaled into his cupped palms, holding still for a second as he tried to steady his breathing.This was the first time he had actually, seriously contemplated giving up skating.But this was also the first time the people he loved had been threatened.

Maybe it was actually time to retire, time to drop out, if it would save the people around him from getting hurt.He would have to think about it, talk to Yakov about it.After the way his coach had been acting recently, the older man might not even be against his retirement.After all, he kept insisting that Viktor shouldn’t go out with anyone, shouldn’t meet people, shouldn’t talk to people he didn’t know.He might be happy if Viktor decided to quit, to put an end to the hassle and the constant lingering fear.

As if summoned by his thoughts there was a knock on the door, but when Viktor got up and padded across the room, peering cautiously through the peephole, it was Yuki he saw waiting nervously in the hallway rather than his coach.Viktor opened the door, forcing himself to smile again.Yuki twisted his fingers together a little nervously, looking up at Viktor through his thick glasses before smiling back a little shakily.

“I saw your coach in the hallway,” he said by way of explanation.“Are you busy?I can come back.”He took a step back, biting his lip.“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I’ll come back-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Viktor said with a small laugh, flashing Yuki Media Smile #5, designed to entice and seduce anyone.He opened the door a little wider.“Do you want to come in?”

Yuki eyed him for a moment as if unsure, and then shuffled past Viktor into the hotel room.He passed close enough that Viktor could smell his shampoo, and Viktor paused for a moment to enjoy that before closing the door and turning to face his… friend and not-quite-boyfriend.Yuki lingered awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyes slightly wider than normal, fingers digging into his forearms.

“How are you feeling about the competition?” Viktor asked, slowly walking towards him as if approaching a skittish wild animal.

“Hopefully alright,” Yuki replied with a tentative smile.“My friend Phichit came with me to cheer me on.”

Viktor’s eyebrows went up.“Oh, really?”

Yuki smiled softly, looking down at his feet.“Yeah.He decided that since I had come to watch him at Skate America, he wanted to come and watch me here.”

“And nothing to do with Lee’s presence?” Viktor asked with a small smirk.

Yuki looked up sharply.“You, um, know about that?”

“It’s kind of an open secret, and gossip breeds like rats at my rink,” Viktor said with a shrug.“Georgi makes it a point to know all about other people’s relationships, no matter how covert they may think they’re being.”

Yuki smiled slightly, laughing.“I guess they aren’t particularly subtle,” he said shyly.

Viktor faced him, close enough that he could almost feel the warmth of Yuki’s body against his arm.Yuki opened his mouth slightly as if to say something else, but no sound came out.Viktor noticed the way the younger man’s eyes darted to his lips before tracing back up his face.

“You know,” Viktor murmured, voice little more than a whisper, “My coach instructed me not to get distracted this competition.”

“My coach said something similar,” Yuki said, voice small and slightly trembling.He met Viktor’s eyes, and Viktor could see the want in them.

Viktor lifted one hand and cupped Yuki’s cheek.“I don’t really make a habit of listening to my coach,” he said, and then leaned down slightly and pressed his lips to Yuki’s gently at first, and then a little harder.Yuki gasped slightly and then kissed him back, arms coming up to loop around Viktor’s neck, pulling him closer.Viktor turned his head slightly and smiled against Yuki’s lips.

It was nice, really nice, to be able to do this again.Even if it wasn’t serious.Even if it didn’t mean anything to Yuki.It was nice, familiar.He didn’t want it to end.

They kissed gently for a while, measured and lazy and gentle, before coming back up for air.

Viktor leaned his forehead against Yuki’s, exhaling slowly.“It’s good to see you again,” he said.

Yuki chuckled.“We only just saw each other at the Cup of France,” he teased.

Viktor pecked him on the lips to shut him up.“Too long, clearly.”

Something flickered in Yuki’s eyes, but all he said was, “I agree.”

Viktor absently brushed his fingers over Yuki’s cheek, and closed his eyes for a moment.Yuki shifted slightly, and then murmured, “Viktor, are you alright?”

Viktor winced internally.He must be acting very strangely if Yuki had noticed something off enough to ask him about it.“I’m fine,” he said, opening his eyes again.Being around Yuki, around someone he really liked, helped him feel a little more at ease, but it couldn’t completely tame the undercurrent of fear in his blood ever since he had found the newest threat in his locker.

“Are you sure?” Yuki said, and when Viktor looked down at his face he could see the worry in Yuki’s eyes.The Japanese man stroked small circles into the skin on the back of Viktor’s neck as he said, “If you want to talk about it, I’m willing to listen.I’m always willing to listen, Viktor.”

Viktor swallowed hard, and for a brief, fleeting moment considered telling Yuki what was going on.It would be _such_ a relief to unload all his worries.

But... that wouldn’t be fair.It wouldn’t be fair to put the burden of his troubles on Yuki’s shoulders.He would never want to put another person in danger, not if he could prevent them from getting hurt.And as much as he loved spending time with Yuki, just being _around_ Yuki, he knew it wouldn’t do well to get too attached.They were in a casual relationship, that was all.Nothing serious, nothing that would break Viktor’s heart when Yuki eventually wanted to end whatever it was they were doing together.

Yuki pressed his nose into the juncture between Viktor’s neck and shoulder and breathed quietly.Viktor accepted the comfort, burying his face in Yuki’s hair and bringing his other arm around Yuki in a hug.

“I’m tired,” he whispered without meaning to, without thinking about the words coming out of his mouth.“I’m so goddamn _tired_ of this, or everything, all the time.”He shuddered slightly, and Yuki pressed one palm to the space between his shoulder blades, a weight that was oddly grounding.“I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this,” Viktor admitted in the barest whisper, voice trembling.

Yuki hugged him a little closer, letting Viktor cling to him.“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Viktor shook his head.“I’m fine,” he promised, trying to convince himself just as much as he tried to convince Yuki.“I’ll be fine.I have to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news, this chapter is a fuckin mess. I'll be back on or around March ~~19th~~ 21st, until then I hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com), and have a great day, dear reader!


	12. What Could Be Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor thinks, Yuuri skates, and more problems are made than are solved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is so late, thank you so much for your patience. Also, there are some threats of violence in the last section of the chapter but no actual violence. idk if that's a trigger, so here's the warning.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

The day of the short programs Viktor found himself oddly clearheaded.He was used to being numb by now, not caring about the results as long as it meant he could be on the ice as much as possible, but for some reason, he was actually looking forward to skating and seeing everyone else skate.Especially Yuki.Probably mostly Yuki, although Chris’s routine promised to be something rather… special this year as well.As it always was.

Stretching in preparation for the competition was an odd exercise in restraint, and Viktor had to concentrate on resisting the temptation both to hang off Yuki or run out onto the ice.And despite Yakov’s warning, and Viktor’s promises, he still managed to get distracted.

“Viktor,” Chris purred, sauntering up to Viktor and patting him just high enough on the back to avoid his butt.“How have you been?I feel like it’s been ages since we’ve talked.”

Viktor smiled at his friend.“It’s good to see you too, Chris,” he chuckled.

Chris studied him with an odd expression on his face.“What’s changed?” he asked.

Viktor blinked.“What do you mean?” he said cautiously.

Chris paused a moment, and then said, “You don’t seem as… serious.”

Viktor raised one eyebrow.“I’m very serious.”

Chris pressed his lips together.“What’s happened?” he asked with a small smile.

Viktor ran his fingers through his hair, unconsciously looking over to where Yuki was warming up with his headphones in, bent against the wall to stretch his legs.Chris followed his gaze, and a slow grin spread across his lips.

“Ah, I see,” he said.“I don’t think I’m familiar with him.You’ll introduce me, perhaps?”

Viktor could feel himself blushing, and winced internally.That would only feed the flames of Chris’s teasing.Sure enough, Chris gave him a wide grin and asked, “That close already?”

“Nothing like that,” Viktor murmured.“We’ve, um… We’ve gone out on a few dates, we’ve kissed, but nothing like you’re implying.”

Chris shrugged.“That’s a pity.Maybe in the future.”

Viktor covered his face with his hands, holding back a sigh.“Maybe,” he mumbled, more to pacify Chris than anything.

Across the room Yuki finished his warm up stretches and straightened, catching Viktor as he stared.Viktor offered a small smile and Yuki smiled nervously back, blushing a little.He took his headphones out of his ears and walked over to where they were standing, and Viktor couldn’t resist leaning in to give him a little peck on the cheek.Yuki went red, but gave Viktor a shy little smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, Viktor,” he said.“How are you doing?”He cast a curious glance in Chris’s direction.Without even looking Viktor could tell by the way that Yuki went red again that Chris had winked and given him a salacious smirk.

“Um, this is my friend Christophe Giacometti, from Switzerland,” Viktor said.“Chris, this is Yuki Nakamura.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Yuki said, bowing slightly, and then took Chris’s hand when he offered it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Chris said with a smile in his voice.He bent and kissed Yuki’s knuckles flirtatiously, and if Viktor didn’t know that his friend was teasing he probably would have been a lot more annoyed.“It’s wonderful to meet someone who can make Viktor smile like you do.”

That made Yuki blush more than the kiss on the back of his hand had, and he blinked up at Viktor.“Really?”

Viktor gave him a tiny smile.“I do like spending time with you, you know,” he teased.

Yuki smiled back.They gazed at each other for a long moment, and then Chris cleared his throat.“I can give you two a moment,” he said, trailing off significantly.

Viktor shook his head slightly to focus himself on something other than the beautiful burnished color of Yuki’s eyes, and said quickly, “No, no, it’s fine.”

“How are you feeling about the competition, Giacometti-san?” Yuki asked politely.

Chris chuckled.“Just Chris is fine,” he promised.“How about you two?”He winked at Viktor, and said, “Not too… tired?”

Viktor rolled his eyes.“I’m feeling alright,” he said, and then gave his friend a challenging smile.“I’m ready to win gold again.”

Chris snorted.“So arrogant,” he said.“Maybe I’ll win this time.Or Yuki.”

Yuki shook his head quickly.“Don’t worry, I’m not really a contender for gold,” he said softly, absently fiddling with a few strands of his otherwise gelled back hair.“I’ll be lucky if I even make the podium.”

“Yuki, you were only a few points away from silver at the Cup of France,” Viktor pointed out. “I look forward to having you on the podium beside me.”

Yuki laughed a little awkwardly.“Thank you for your faith in me, Viktor,” he said.

“Yuki?”

All three men turned to see Celestino Cialdini walking towards them, eyes fixed on Yuki.“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” Celestino said when he was close enough.“Yuki, are you finished with stretching?”

“I have a few more I want to do,” Yuki replied.

Celestino smiled at him slightly.“I’m going to steal him, then,” he said to Viktor and Chris.

Viktor smiled back.“Of course.If I don’t get to see you again before you skate, Yuki, good luck.”

Yuki bit his lip, glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, and then stood on his toes to give Viktor a quick kiss on the lips.“For luck,” he said.

Viktor gazed at him wide-eyed, heart thundering in his chest.“For me, or for you?”

Yuki blushed prettily again, and then looked up at Viktor from under his eyelashes as he replied softly, “For both of us?”Viktor beamed at him.

Celestino laid a gentle hand on Yuki’s shoulder, and Yuki jumped.“Right!See you later, Viktor,” he said with a small wave, and then let his coach lead him away.

“Mm, I see why you like him,” Chris said in a low voice, and when Viktor looked over his friend wasn’t smirking like he had imagined.

Viktor clutched absently at his shirt, and sighed softly.“Yeah…” 

Chris studied him.“Are you in love with Yuki?” he asked quietly, something different in his voice.

Viktor’s eyes widened, and his gaze snapped to his friend.“Love?”

Chris shrugged a little awkwardly, for the first time looking like he regretted his words.“I don’t know, I thought maybe-”

“I haven’t known him for very long,” Viktor murmured.“I… No, I can’t be in love with him, I haven’t known him long enough.”

Chris gave him a tiny, sober smile, far from the wide and flirtatious grins he usually threw around.“Alright.”

Viktor nodded.“Right.Right.We’re friends, and maybe… maybe boyfriends?No love involved.”

But Viktor couldn’t get Chris’s questions out of his head even as he took the ice almost an hour later, the words echoing through his every thought and beating a steady tattoo on the inside of his skull.

_Are you in love with Yuki?_

Viktor smiled emptily at the crowd around him as he did a lap around the ice before taking his place in the middle, thoughts churning.

_Are you in love with Yuki?No, I… can’t be in love…_

He cast a glance towards the edge of the ice, where Yuki was standing.For better or for worse, the Japanese man was up right after Viktor for the short program.Viktor settled himself in his starting position, and tried to push thoughts of _love_ and _Yuki_ out of his mind.Perhaps it should have been more worrying to him that the two words seemed to be closer than he had realized.

But… his routine, Eros, was _about_ love.Sexual love, sure, sensual and enticing and alluring, but love nonetheless.So maybe… maybe thinking about Yuki’s eyes, his smile, his cute little laugh, would help.And then he could think about the way Yuki had held him last night, in the dim light of his hotel room, held him and hadn’t made fun of him when he admitted how tired he was.And Yuki’s kisses…

The music began, a strum of a guitar, and Viktor took the time to throw a wink brimming with promises in Yuki’s general direction before spinning into motion.The last time he had skated this routine, he hadn’t thought of anything more than the steps and jumps he knew he had to do, and the weight of Yuki’s eyes watching him from the side.This time as he launched himself into his first quad, he tried to focus both on the way the ice felt under his skates and the way Yuki’s eyes had sparkled with light and happiness the first time they had kissed, after that first date in the United States.

Viktor let his instincts take over, moving through his skate with the kind of grace only possible through hours, days, weeks, months of practice and repetition.Viktor let his want, his _desire,_ seep into his skating.He wanted Yuki, sure.The Japanese man was remarkably attractive, more than he seemed to realize, and Viktor definitely wouldn’t be opposed to sleeping with him, someday.

But more than that, more than any physical need, Viktor _wanted._ He wanted the gaping hole in his chest to feel full, for someone to hold him and run fingers through his hair when he felt like the world was too heavy for him to bear, someone to laugh with and kiss and cuddle when it was cold out, someone to tease him and love him and let him cry into their shoulder when he couldn’t keep the tears inside anymore.

And _god_ , he wanted, needed someone to love him the same way.He wanted someone to love him and cherish him and lean into him when they hugged and smile against his lips as they kissed and laugh that adorable little laugh…It wasn’t the same kind of seduction as the one he was dancing, sure, but Viktor was not above seducing Yuki into his bed to watch movies and eat popcorn for hours.

Viktor held his breath and then let it out as he twisted into his last spin, breathing hard as he finishedin his ending position, facing Yuki again.There was a moment of frozen, endless silence unbroken even by the commentators, before the audience burst into thunderous noise, clapping and yelling and screaming.Viktor braced himself as the noise brought him completely back to himself, away from the world of his mind where someone could love him.He stayed out on the ice as long as he could, relishing in the last scattered scraps of his skate like he was desperately trying to hold onto a dream, and then skated to the barrier and accepted his skate guards from Yakov without a word.

A little ways off Yuki was standing and staring out at the ice, nodding about something his coach had said, but almost as if he could sense Viktor’s attention he turned his head and caught sight of him.Something twinged deep in Viktor’s chest at the wide, ecstatic smile that spread across Yuki’s lips, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright.

“Viktor!” the other man exclaimed, almost too quiet to hear over the din of the stadium.“That was amazing!”

Viktor smiled back, hoping he wasn’t as flushed as he felt.He _wanted_.

Celestino said something to Yuki, and the Japanese man nodded.“I’ll… I’ll see you in a bit, Viktor,” he said softly, enough that Viktor had to read his lips to know what he was saying.“That was incredible.”

Viktor’s lips twitched into a slightly more natural smile.“Thank you,” he mouthed, and then let Yakov lead him away.

“Vitya?” the old man said quietly as they walked to the kiss and cry for Viktor’s scores.“What were you thinking about?”

Viktor kept his eyes on the ground in front of his skates, careful not to fall.“I was just… thinking about love.The the theme of my song.”

“Your theme is desire,” Yakov said, something sharp and almost protective in his voice.

Viktor glanced up as they entered the kiss and cry, giving the cameras already trained on him a practiced, charming smile.As they sat, he covered his mouth with his hand so no one could read his lips before saying, “I can desire love.”

Yakov sighed heavily, seeming to sense that the argument wasn’t one he wanted to get into with Viktor, and then began to go over everything he thought Viktor had done wrong in his program.Viktor more or less tuned him out, more concerned with watching Yuki get ready for his skate, nodding along to whatever his coach was saying as he bent to take off his skate guards.Viktor took a moment to admire his ass, absently making a noise of agreement as Yakov asked him something.Yuki’s costume was _quite_ nice, he decided.The colors did a lot to compliment his complexion, and the sequins on the cuffs of his pants drew attention to his footwork and seemed to make his step sequences all the more enrapturing.

“Vitya!” Yakov snapped, and Viktor brought his attention back to his coach just in time to see his scores flash on the display overhead. 

“Just shy of the world record he set at the Cup of China two years ago, Viktor Nikiforov’s score allows him to take the lead in the short program,” the commentator said with barely concealed excitement.Viktor gave the cameras around him Media Smile #5, gracious, modest, and proud, and then turned to Yakov.

“Well done,” the older man said with a slow nod.“I’m surprised you didn’t beat your record, the way you skated.”

Viktor’s lips twitched slightly into something that could have been a genuine smile.That was a real compliment, coming from Yakov.“Honored, I’m sure.”

Yakov studied him.“I’m sure you could win every competition without even trying.Get a better attitude, Vitya.”

Viktor chuckled.“I don’t know if I would say _without trying_ ,” he replied, getting to his feet.“Come on.I want to watch Yuki.”

Yakov gestured irately.“Go ahead, I can’t stop you,” he grumbled, and then glanced down at his phone in his hands.“Gosha is texting me again, apparently he can’t get Yura to leave the rink.”

Viktor chuckled weakly.“That certainly sounds like Yura.Go ahead and take care of that, I’ll be in the audience.”

Y akov waved him off, scowling down at his phone, and Viktor smirked to himself before heading to the designated area where skaters were allowed to sit just as Yuki took the ice.Viktor settled himself as a hush fell over the audience, Yuki taking his position in the center of the rink with his head bowed, arms wrapped around his chest as if protecting himself.

Viktor watched with wide eyes as Yuki froze, completely still, and then bloomed into motion as soon as the first few notes of his program music echoes through the arena.His skate was beautiful- sure, there were some technical mistakes, his second quad was shaky enough that he had to touch the ice with one hand, and his camel spin could have been just a little bit neater- but Viktor found himself holding his breath with every movement of Yuki’s body, completely entranced.Yuki danced on the ice, the smooth gestures of his arms an invitation, every step sequence a promise carved into the ice like a poem.

His theme was beginnings… Objectively, Viktor knew that the ‘beginning’ in question was the beginning of his truly competitive skating career, his first ambitious bounds onto the international stage, but Viktor couldn’t help but wish Yuki was thinking of other beginnings as well.

Chris’s question looped in his head, over and over and over again: _Are you in love with Yuki?In love?In love?_

As much as he liked Yuki, as much as he adored just _being_ around him, Viktor knew that he would have to get to know the other man a bit better before he would let his guard down enough to fall in love. He wanted to know, not just the simple things about Yuki, but _everything_ ; his hopes and dreams and fears, what he looked like when he was laughing so hard he couldn’t breath, what dish he was best at cooking, and yes, even what he looked like in the throes of passion.Then Viktor would know if he was in love.He would _have_ to know.

So, no, Viktor decided as he watched with wide, proud eyes as Yuki finished his skate, arms open as if reaching for someone.He wasn’t in love with Nakamura Yuki, not yet.But maybe one day… maybe he could be.

***

Yuuri loved Phichit.He really, really did.The Thai man was a wonderful friend and had been incredibly supportive, accepting Yuuri into his life without a complaint and quickly becoming one of his closest friends.

That said, Phichit hanging over his shoulder and making commentary as Yuuri watched the free skates before him from the area where he was supposed to be stretching was not doing much at all to help Yuuri’s anxiety.

“Phichit, did you see where Ciao Ciao went?” Yuuri finally asked, more to get his friend to stop analyzing Leo de la Iglesia’s free skate far too close to his ear than anything else.

“Mm, I think he had to take a call of something,” Phichit said, mercifully distracted.He stepped away from Yuuri, did a tiny piece of a step sequence from his short program, and then turned to face Yuuri again, for the first time noticing Yuuri’s nerves.“Hey, are you alright?” Phichit asked in concern, stepping a little closer.

Yuuri nodded quickly, too immersed in his thoughts to do anything more.“Yes, I’m fine,” he promised absently.

“You’re going into the free skate in fourth, Yuki, that’s really good,” Phichit insisted.“And people seem to have had pretty high hopes for Otabek Altin, so I’d say you’re doing excellently.”

Yuuri smiled weakly.“Thanks, Phichit.”

“Do you want me to get Ciao Ciao?” Phichit asked.

Yuuri shook his head.“I’m fine,” he promised, turning his attention back to the performances just as Leo finished his free skate.

“That was pretty good,” Phichit murmured, nodding.

Yuuri swallowed.“Yeah?”

Phichit nodded in thoughtful reply.“How are you feeling?” he asked.“Your free skate in France was beautiful.”

Yuuri chewed on his lip, eyes fixed on his shoes.

“I hope Ciao Ciao comes back soon,” Phichit mumbled.“You’re skating after Otabek.”

As if summoned by his words. Celestino appeared almost out of nowhere and clapped Yuuri on the shoulder.“Are you ready, Yuki?”

Yuuri tried to smile.“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Celestino raised an eyebrow.“That will have to do.”

Yuuri offered Phichit a small smile.“Are you coming with me?”

Phichit grinned back brightly.“As long as you want me!”

Yuuri nodded.He was afraid to open his mouth, for fear that he would say something stupid or he would throw up with nerves. _God_ , the stress was really getting to him this time.This was his last chance to make it to the Grand Prix Finals, and he was up against some of the best skaters in competition.Chris was a formidable competitor, Seung-gil would be very difficult to beat, and despite the fact that they were younger Otabek and Leo weren’t to be discounted either.

And Viktor… it was incredible to skate on the same ice as Viktor like he had always dreamed of as a kid, even as a junior skater, and it made sense logically for Yuuri to compete in the same competitions Viktor had been assigned in order to ensure that he would be able to effectively make certain no one would hurt him, but competing against such an incredible skater certainly didn’t make things easier.

And if Yuuri missed his chance… He would still go to the Grand Prix Finals, of course.He had a job to do, and losing wasn’t going to stop him from doing it.Besides, he had a friend and an almost-boyfriend to support.But it would make things a _lot_ harder if he was denied access to places Viktor would be able to go, places that Viktor’s enemies may very well be lying in wait.And then Viktor would get hurt, Viktor might die, and Yuuri would have failed him, failed everyone-

“Yuki?” Phichit murmured, one hand resting on his elbow, and Yuuri realized with a jolt that he was shaking.God, he hadn’t been this stressed out in a long time.Even at the Cup of France, once on the ice he had been able to distance himself from his anxiety in order to skate cleanly.But Yuuri wasn’t completely sure he would be able to do that this time, and the little threads of doubt niggling at the edges of his conscious just made things worse.

“Yuki,” Phichit said, a little louder, and Yuuri blinked.

“Sorry, he mumbled, embarrassed.“Um, I’m alright.”

Phichit gave him a long, critical look. “Are you certain?” he asked quietly, glancing around to make sure no one but Celestino was close enough to overhear.

A moment later a water bottle was pressed into his hands.“Please drink,” Celestino said.“It might help.”

Yuuri numbly opened the water bottle, taking a sip.The cool water did help somewhat, and he felt a bit more clearheaded by the time it was his turn to take the ice.Otabek Altin exited to the cheers and screams of the crowd, offering Yuuri a small nod as he went, and then Yuuri has putting his water down and taking off his skate guards.

“Remember what you’re here for,” Celestino murmured, softly enough that Phichit probably wouldn’t be able to hear him.“I don’t know if it helps,” the coach said, chuckling slightly and running his hand over his hair to smooth it.According to Phichit, bumps in Celestino’s hair caused by his ponytail were a bane of the older man’s existence.

Yuuri pinched himself in an effort to concentrate on his upcoming skate, rather than his coach’s hair.Yuuri’s fake name was announced, and Celestino gave him a nod while Phichit just grinned.

“You’re going to do great, Yuki!” he exclaimed.

Yuuri forced a smile before stepping into the ice, skating a lap before taking the center.What Celestino had said actually did help.It helped to know that he wasn’t just doing this for himself, it was for someone else’s good as well.And maybe if he focused on that, he could get through the skate and maybe even make the final.

Or, alternatively, try to ignore his anxieties for the few minutes his program would take, pretending they didn’t crop up every time he skated in front of other people and pushing them away with optimistic and altruistic thoughts and motivations. Yuuri clenched his jaw as he waited for his music to start, the few seconds seeming like an eternity.He was an anxious mess, and he felt like he was on the edge of some sort of break down, but first and foremost he was an Interpol agent.

His theme was beginnings, and his free skate specifically about what hope for a future beginnings could bring, so he would think about the beginning of the future he wanted to have.A future where he succeeded, where he kept Viktor safe, but in this future they were actually... allowed to be together.

Yuuri was moving with his music before he even knew it, telling the story of the beginnings he so desperately wanted out on the ice, baring his soul for everyone in the world to see.Yuuri wanted a beginning where he could stay on the ice.He had given it up, yes, but he hadn’t anticipated quite how much it would hurt to come back after so long.

With that thought in mind, the thought of the beginnings he had lost, Yuuri jumped and landed his first quad without a hitch, his muscles still fresh and untiring.Next was a step sequence, then a spin, and Yuuri utterly lost himself in the story he was telling on the ice, ignoring the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears and the panting of his breath in the back of his dry throat.

All too soon his story of beginnings had come to an end, and Yuuri was standing in the middle of the ice with his eyes squeezed shut and his arms outstretched.He let the energy of the applause around him carry him to the edge of the ice, where Phichit practically tackled him in an excited hug and Celestino smiled and nodded.Phichit didn’t let go even in the kiss and cry, not until Yuuri laughed at him.

“I didn’t do too badly?” he asked a little shyly, and Phichit’s eyes widened.

“It was so good, Yuki!”

Yuuri smiled, taking solace in his friend’s words and using that encouragement to fight off the rising anxiety until his scores were announced, putting him in second place, a tenth of a point behind Otabek.

“It’s alright,” Celestino said.“You did excellent.I’m proud of you.”

Yuuri smiled.“Thank you.”

He turned the other way to Phichit, and teased, “Want to see your boyfriend skate?”

Phichit rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the eagerness in his posture.“I mean, yeah.If we can.”

“Go ahead,” Celestino laughed, and Yuuri let Phichit drag him over to where there had been some seats set aside just as Seung-gil took the ice.Yuuri frowned as soon as he caught sight of Seung-gil.Right away, he could tell something was off with the Korean man, his movements stiff even before he began his routine.

“Phichit?” he murmured.

“I know,” Phichit mumbled back as the smile slid off his face.“There’s something wrong, but I don’t know what it it.”

Seung-gil’s music began, and just as Yuuri had expected his first step sequence was jerky and disjointed, technically fine but with no emotion.Yuuri winced when Seung-gil’s first jump was under rotated, and he tumbled to the ice.

“Phichit, I hate to ask,” Yuuri whispered as he watched Seung-gil struggle back to his feet and resume his routine, “But did you and him, um...Last night, did you two-“

“We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re asking,” Phichit replied, and there was an edge to his voice that Yuuri knew not to push.“I know better than that, OK?” Phichit said.“I wouldn’t sabotage him like that the night before the free skate, especially if I wasn’t competing.”He exhaled slowly as Seung-gil touched down on another jump before admitting in the barest whisper, “He told me last night that he was nervous.I didn’t believe him, because, well... you’ve seen him, you know how he gets.It’s hard to imagine him succumbing to nerves.”

But that was clearly what was happening, and Yuuri watched with pity as Seung-gil finished his messy skate, ending with his face down rather than up like it had been at Skate America.

“I’m going to go talk to him,” Phichit said immediately when the music ended, and Yuuri nodded.

“Go ahead.”

Phichit got up and hurried away, leaving Yuuri by himself.Yuuri spent Chris’s free skate fretting on behalf of his friend, regrettably only half paying attention while trying to keep sight of Viktor as well as the Russian skated stood by the boards in preparation for his own free skate, the last one of the day.

Chris finished with a flourish just as Phichit returned, and Yuuri gave his friend a curious look.“It was the nerves,” Phichit said.“He wants to be alone right now.”He bit his lip and looked down worriedly, sighing.

“Just give it a bit of time, I guess?” Yuuri suggested a little awkwardly.“If I were in his situation I would probably be crying in a bathroom stall right now.”

Phichit gave him a small smile.“I won’t worry about it, nothing I can do at the moment,” he said, and then elbowed Yuuri in the side.He brightened, and said, “We can watch _your_ boyfriend skate!”

Yuuri giggled, not even bothering to contest the boyfriend claim, and leaned forward as Viktor bent over to take off his blade guards before getting on the ice.People were cheering and screaming for him before he even reached the center of the rink, and Yuuri wasn’t at all ashamed to admit that he was one of them, cheering for his almost-boyfriend before quieting as Viktor got in position.Maybe it was Yuuri’s imagination, but Viktor seemed to glance around at the audience for a moment as if looking for someone before getting into starting position.

Yuuri’s breath caught at the beauty of Viktor’s first movements, something almost sad and longing mixed in with the tale of desire his routine was supposed to represent.Emotion seemed to diffuse from everything he did, every expression he made, until Yuuri felt almost like he himself was living the story of love and desire for something that seems unattainable.

The routine was over far too quickly for Yuuri’s taste, and again Viktor seemed to be looking for someone in the side of the rink before he gave up and followed his coach.Yuuri was still trying to figure it out when Viktor’s scores came in, and Phichit’s hand gripped like a vice as everyone’s scores were displayed.

“Yuki!” he gasped, pointing, and Yuuri followed the direction of his finger to see the scores.He was in fourth, behind Viktor, Chris, and Otabek, but Otabek had beat him by a very small margin, and with Yuri Plisetsky out of the competition for his injury...

“Yuki,” Phichit said excitedly as he turned, his face flushed and happy.“You might have just made it into the Grand Prix Finals!”

***

Sergey Markov reached out from where he was slumped in his chair in front of his large oak desk in his dimly lit study, and with one finger tapped a key on the laptop in front of him to pause the rewound stream of the men’s free programs playing there.The screen froze on the figure skater from Japan, his eyes closed and his arms outstretched.

Markov stared with dead eyes at the screen for a long moment before opening up another tab and easily finding the results of the competition.Viktor Nikiforov, gold.Christophe Giacometti, silver.Otabek Altin, bronze.Nakamura Yuki, fourth.The rest were insignificant.Markov glared at the search results he got when he looked up Nikiforov’s name, headlines already proclaiming his victory in Moscow and predictions about more gold medals at the Grand Prix Finals in Barcelona, at Worlds in Boston.

Without taking his eyes from the screen he picked up his phone from the desk beside the laptop, and then dialed as he leaned back in his chair, listening to the phone ring.The person on the other end picked up after three rings, but didn’t say anything.

Markov waited a long moment, to make sure they weren’t going to say anything- he didn’t like being interrupted, and he enjoyed the idea that the other person was trembling in fear- and then inhaled slightly before murmuring, “I saw the free programs.”

“I need more time,” the other man said immediately, his voice raw and afraid.

Markov made a disapproving noise.“More time?” he repeated, and then read one of the headlines from the screen of his computer.“Nikiforov wins Rostelecom with stunning free, predicted to sweep GPF.”He drummed his fingers on his desk.“That doesn’t sound like our agreement.”

The person on the other end of the phone made a small sound, as if he intended to say something, but Markov cut him off.“Perhaps you need a reminder.”He readjusted himself in his seat, and then said, “You promised me that Nikiforov wouldn’t have a perfect season.He’s getting older, you said, and if he doesn’t miss a beat then you would step in, more than just threatening letters.And once he missed a single gold medal, I would get my money, and any debt you owe me would be cleared.Is that not what you want anymore?Because it seems like Nikiforov is well on his way to his sixth consecutive World Championship gold medal.”

“This is why I need more _time,_ ” the other man said frantically, practically begging.“He’s not easy to sway.Please.I give you my word.”

“Hm,” Markov grumbled.“You were the one who said that threatening everything he cares about would work to get him out of the competition.It seems to me that if he’s not to be swayed, your threats aren’t threatening enough.”

“I thought it would work,” the other man murmured, almost to himself.“For fuck’s sake, I thought threatening his goddamned _dog_ would work, at least.”

Markov made a disinterested humming noise.“I heard Plisetsky got mugged recently,” he said casually.“Perhaps if he got roughed up again, that would be more persuasive to Nikiforov than letters slipped underneath his apartment door.”

“If you hurt him, so help me-” the other man said angrily.

“I’m joking, for now,” Markov chuckled, and then sobered.“But don’t think I will hesitate if I think it will get me what I want.”

The other man took a long, trembling breath.“Yuri Plisetsky is an innocent teenager who does not need to be dragged into this,” he said levelly.“Do not harm him.”

“I hadn’t realized you were the one giving the orders around here,” Markov said icily.There was a moment of dead silence, and he smiled slowly, able to hear the quick, terrified breathing in his ear.

Markov clicked to another tab on his computer, an open article with a picture of Nikiforov in the kiss and cry, his gaze focused on someone outside of the frame.He clicked to another, a picture of Nikiforov and the Japanese skater hugging after Nikiforov had received his scores, and then another of a starry-eyed Nikiforov watching his apparent crush skate.

“He seems rather enchanted with the Interpol agent,” Markov observed placidly, picking at the edge of his desk as he steered the conversation in a different, more pressing, direction.“Katsuki.Is he going to be an issue?”

The man on the other end of the phone swallowed audibly, and then answered, “He shouldn’t be an issue.I don’t think Interpol suspects me, and Viktor doesn't even know who he is.”

Markov flicked a splinter from the desk away from himself, and then said pointedly, “It wouldn’t be too difficult to make Katsuki disappear.Might make things easier for you to do what you’re _supposed_ to be doing.”

“No!” the other man snapped.There was a long pause, and then he said again, quieter, “No, don’t.Vitya trusts me.And Katsuki doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does.Let me handle it, like you promised I could, and no one has to get hurt.”

Markov reached down, tracing his fingertip over the knob to one of his desk drawers before withdrawing his hand again.In that drawer, nestled between folders, was a gun.It would be easy, so easy, to use that gun on Nikiforov- or, at least, pay someone to do it for him. “So you say,” Markov drawled, closing his eyes.

“Just give me until Worlds,” the other man said, his voice surprisingly steady.“Give me until Worlds to get Viktor to lose, and then you’ll get your money and leave us alone.”

Markov was silent for a long time, long enough that he knew the man on the other end of the phone was undoubtedly squirming, and then answered, “Very well.You have until the World Championships to unseat the Living Legend from his throne at the top of the podium.And please understand, if you mess this up, it will not only be you and Nikiforov who will pay.I can and will hurt the skaters at your rink, that woman that you love-”

“I understand,” the man replied quickly, his voice heavy with pained resignation.“Viktor will lose or quit before then.”

Markov nodded in satisfaction.“Good,” he said, and then hung up the phone before the pathetic man on the other end could extract any more promises of time from him.

“Until Worlds,” Markov murmured to himself, turning his eyes once again to the paused stream on his laptop, to the headlines already predicting Nikiforov’s victories.“And then Viktor Nikiforov will have to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for being patient on this chapter :D
> 
> The next chapter should be out on or around April ~~4th~~ 6th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a splendid day, dear reader!


	13. To Be A Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri needs sleep and Phichit discovers something he shouldn't have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i relate to the first sentence of this chapter on a spiritual level
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was getting close to two in the morning and Yuuri was at the same time completely hopped up on caffeine and sure he was going to fall asleep at any moment, despite the documents spread around him, the laptop perched on his bent legs, and the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder.

“Do you recognize any of them?” Minako asked, her voice slightly tinny from thousands of miles and a few continents away.

Yuuri stifled a yawn against the back of his hand, reaching up to readjust the phone before answering, “I don’t think so.”He blinked tiredly as he scrolled through the case files Minako had emailed him earlier to look over.He took in and tried to memorize name after name, photo after photo, mostly Russians but a few people from other places in the world scattered in as well.“Where did you find all these?” Yuuri asked curiously.

Minako sighed, long and quiet. “This is our preliminary suspect list,” she explained.“Anyone who, from what intel we’ve managed to gather, might either be connected to Markov or to anyone else who would be motivated to off Viktor.”

Yuuri winced slightly, and scrolled down to the next case file.“How many are there?”

“A good hundred,” Minako replied, not even bothering to hide the frustration in her voice.

“If this is the preliminary list,” Yuuri murmured, closing his laptop for the time being, “How long is the secondary list?”

Minako was quiet, long enough for Yuuri to hear the answer in her silence.He leaned his head back against the wall, thumping it perhaps a little harder than he meant to, and said, “How many months has it been now?”

Minako sighed deeply.“We have made some progress,” she said.“We have a few suspects that aren’t on that list.”

Yuuri perked up slightly. “Who?”

Minako hesitated, and then said almost apologetically, “I’m sorry, Yuuri, we can’t tell you.That’s confidential information, for the time being.”

Unable to stop himself, Yuuri groaned.“Seriously?” he said, too tired and frustrated to censor his words.“Minako, I’ve been undercover for months with the objective of helping root out the people who want to hurt Viktor, and now that you might have suspects you won’t even share them with me?”

“Katsuki-san, we may be friendly, but I am still your superior,” Minako said, her voice suddenly cold.“Watch your words.”

Yuuri tangled the fingers of one hand in his hair and tugged, the stinging pain bringing him back to his senses a bit.“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured, and  Minako hummed in acceptance of the apology.

“In truth, I would tell you if I could,” she said after another long moment filled only by the static crackling over the phone line.“But I have orders from above.They’re afraid that if you know who a few of the suspects are, you might act differently around them.”

“So they’re people I know?” Yuuri pressed breathlessly.“People I’m going to see?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Minako said levelly, but Yuuri thought he heard a laugh in her voice.

Yuuri wracked his brains, trying to think of who might be the guilty one.“An ice skater, I assume…” he murmured, almost to himself.“I mean, other than coaches and ISU officials, other ice skaters are the only people I really interact with who might have a motive to want Viktor to retire from skating.But I guess we already knew that.”He sighed quietly, and midway through the sigh turned to a gaping yawn.

Minako must have heard him yawning, and said, “I’ll let you go, Yuuri, I know it’s late there.”

Yuuri smiled, even though Minako wouldn’t be able to see him.“Thanks, Minako,” he murmured, and then hung up the phone before opening his laptop again to pore over the case files.

The names blurred together after a while as Yuuri’s eyelids drooped and his yawns grew more frequent.Alexei Smirnov, Sasha Petrovich, Ivana Vasilieva, Mikhail Baranovsky, name after name after name after name… No one Yuuri recognized, which just made it all the more difficult to stay awake as he studied each face for clues that he might have seen them before at a competition or a practice or even in one of the cities where Viktor had been exposed. He wanted to sleep, desperately wanted to rest and pick his task up again the next morning… But if he didn’t help Interpol solve the case, Viktor might die.

Yuuri forced himself to close his computer, and then got out of bed and padded to the kitchen of his and Phichit’s small Detroit apartment to get himself something else with caffeine in it.From behind Phichit’s slightly ajar door Yuuri could hear his friend snoring, the soft sound oddly comforting in the dim, heavy air of the apartment.It was too late to call it night anymore, but too early to call it morning, Yuuri decided as he leaned against the counter and watched the microwave where he had put his cup of coffee, careful to make sure it wouldn’t beep and wake his roommate up.

He turned and looked out the small window above the sink, searching ineffectively for any sign of stars in the night sky polluted by light.Even at two in the morning, there were still plenty of lights on in the city.It reminded Yuuri a little of Tokyo, of how different it had been to live in Tokyo after growing up in a small town where hardly a light could be seen after eleven, and an odd sort of homesickness panged in his chest. He had never expected to feel homesick for his grimy, cold, lonely apartment, one of many in a faceless apartment complex half an hour from his work, and yet… 

Yuuri stifled a yelp as the microwave behind him beeped, and quickly scrambled to stop it from going too long and waking what was sure to be a wrathful Phichit.Yuuri took a long, slow sip of his coffee, not exactly enjoying the bitter drink as the caffeine perked him up again, and thenturned back to his room and his task.

It was late, too late to call night and too early to call morning, and he had work to do.

***

“As fun as watching your competition was, it’s nice to be back in Detroit,” Phichit said, glancing up from his phone as Yuki shuffled into the kitchen of their apartment, looking like death warmed over.

“Hm?” the other man mumbled, rifling through the cupboards for his tea.“Oh.Yes.Very nice.”

“Still jet lagged?” Phichit asked sympathetically, taking a sip of his own tea and setting his phone down.

Yuki shrugged, covering a yawn with his hand as he made himself tea.“I stayed up too late last night,” he admitted.“Doing, um… Homework.”

“Your professors didn’t cut you any slack?” Phichit said with a frown, and Yuki shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

“I should not have procrastinated as much as I did.”

Phichit chuckled.“I know your pain,” he said.“I’ve done that plenty before.”

Yuki offered him a small smile.“I’m going to do my best to sleep better tonight,” he said.

Phichit smiled back.“Yeah, it might not be too great if you fell asleep in class.”

Yuki yawned against the back of his hand, and then rubbed at his eyes.“I don’t have class until this afternoon,” he said.“I might need to take a nap before then.”

Phichit grinned, absently picking at his phone case.“I can wake you up if you want.”

“Mm, I have some stuff to do before I can nap,” Yuki said reluctantly, running his fingers through his hair.

“You still have homework?” Phichit asked with a frown, and Yuki blinked at him for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Yeah, I have an essay to write. And, um… math problems to do?”

Phichit looked down as his phone buzzed, distracted.“Alright, good luck with that,” he muttered, pulling his phone towards him.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Yuki said, and shuffled off again with his steaming mug of tea, cursing under his breath a bit down the hall when he presumably slopped some of the hot liquid on himself.

Phichit leaned back in his chair, studying the notification on his phone as if it held the secrets of the universe.Seung-gil had texted him, the first time since the competition in Russia.His friend had been pretty upset about his performance, enough that he hadn’t really wanted to talk to Phichit after the free skates.It worried Phichit, but he hadn’t pushed, and so hadn’t talked to Seung-gil since coming back to the United States.And now he had gotten a request to video call, pretty much out of the blue.

Phichit drained the last of his tea in one sip and stood, setting the mug in the sink before leaning against the counter and texting back an affirmative.A moment later the screen of his phone lit up with the incoming call, and Phichit answered it on his way to his bedroom.

“Hi,” Seung-gil said as soon as Phichit picked up, and Phichit gave his friend a small smile back as he closed his bedroom door behind him.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Phichit asked, flopping on his bed.

Seung-gil closed his eyes and sighed, shoulders dropping a little.“I’m doing alright,” he said“You?”

Phichit shrugged, as best he could shrug hanging half off his bed.“Pretty good.I’m living with a zombie, though.”

Seung-gil chuckled. “Your roommate’s not good with jet lag?”

Phichit shook his head.“Granted, neither am I,” he said.“How are you feeling, though? You have the smallest time difference, right?”

Seung-gil nodded.“I’m tired, but not horribly so,” he said, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.“I’m… more emotionally tired.”

Phichit waited to see if Seung-gil would bring up his performance in Russia, and after a long moment of silence the other man muttered, “I fucked up.”

“You were nervous, right?” Phichit said immediately, lowering his voice a little.“You didn’t fuck up, you made some mistakes.There’s a difference.”

Seung-gil raised an eyebrow.“Oh?”

Phichit offered him a tiny smile.“I’d say “fucking up” implies a catastrophic failure.”

“Phichit, I came in sixth place,” Seung-gil said in a voice that anyone else would have called furious.

“You didn’t come in last,” Phichit pointed out helpfully.“You did the best in the circumstances that you were in, the best you could do with the nervousness you were fighting.”

“That’s easy to say for the man who actually qualified for the Grand Prix,” Seung-gil snapped, and then tiredly covered his eyes.“I’m sorry.That was uncalled for.”

Phichit shrugged.“It’s fine to be angry,” he said gently.“I don’t blame you.”

“I thought this would be my year,” Seung-gil said in frustration.“I finally managed to get a consistent quad loop in my repertoire, I came in third in my first competition… I thought this would finally be the year I made it to the Grand Prix Finals.And then I fucked up.”

Phichit chewed on his lower lip, trying to formulate what to say.He knew it was true that he would see things differently than Seung-gil, since he had qualified for thr Grand Prix Finals, but there had to be a way to comfort his friend.“I know it probably sounds empty,” he said quietly, “But you still have a really good chance for other competitions later in the season.Four Continents, Worlds… I mean, you’re currently South Korea’s best male single skater, right?So you’ll get your chance at 4CC and Worlds to prove to everyone that the Cup of Russia was your lowest point, not your highest.Maybe you’ll even win!”

Seung-gil snorted.“Not at Worlds, not while people like Viktor Nikiforov are still competing,” he said, and then offered Phichit the tiniest smile imaginable.“But thank you.”

Phichit grinned back, and then sensing that a change of subject was in order, asked, “So did you see the picture of my hamsters I put on Instagram yesterday, they were being the cutest I’ve ever seen them.”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes.“You say that _every_ time.”

Phichit pushed himself off his bed and scrambled across the room, turning his phone so that his friend could see his hamsters.Seung-gil sighed indulgently, but let Phichit talk about his beloved pets.After that they slipped into easy conversation about everything except skating, sharing stories they hadn’t gotten to when they had seen each other last.

It was only by chance that Phichit happened to glance at the clock, absently noting that he had been talking to Seung-gil for more than three hours before the time registered.“Shit, I have to go,” he said quickly, sitting up straight in bed.“I have practice soon, and I was supposed to wake Yuki up for class.”

Seung-gil nodded solemnly.“Good luck,” he said.“We should do this again some time.”

Phichit paused a moment, and gave his friend a warm smile.“Definitely.I miss you.”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes.“We saw each other in person less than a week ago,” he said. “Go on, go to practice.”

“Bye!” Phichit chirped, blowing Seung-gil a kiss before hanging up the call.He stuffed his cell phone in his pocket before walking quickly to Yuki’s room, tapping on the door.“Yuki?” he called quietly.“Um, sorry, if you’re sleeping you need to get up.”

There was a muffled groan from inside the bedroom, and a moment later Yuki opened the door, still looking half dead.

“Did you sleep?” Phichit asked cheerfully, and Yuki adjusted his glasses to reveal a red mark on his face where the frames had pressed agains his skin.

“Um, yeah.  A bit.”

“I’m really sorry,” Phichit said.“I forgot to wake you up.”

Yuki shook his head.“It shouldn’t be your responsibility, I forgot to set an alarm,” he said, and then added, “Wasn’t planning on sleeping.”

“You have class in five minutes,” Phichit blurted, and then winced.

Yuki’s eyes widened behind his glasses, and he hissed what was presumably a curse in Japanese.“Ah, thank you, Phichit,” Yuki said, leaving the door slightly open as he disappeared.The light flicked on a moment later and Phichit peeked in to find Yuki frantically gathering the papers scattered on his desk, shoving them in one of the drawers and muttering under his breath all the while.

In a whirlwind of motion Yuki grabbed his bag and phone and shoes before closing his door behind him.“Thanks for waking me up, Phichit,” the Japanese man said seriously, even as he hopped on one foot to pull on his shoe.“I’ll see you at the rink?”

“You got it!” Phichit promised, and watched with a small, fond smile as his friend rushed out the door.He waited a long moment, and then pulled his phone out of his pocket,leaning against Yuki’s bedroom door.

To his surprise the door opened under his weight, and Phichit yelped as he grabbed at the door frame, just barely managing not to fall over.He pulled himself to his feet again, steadying himself against the door frame, and then stared into Yuki’s room.

His roommate had forgotten to lock his door.His slightly paranoid roommate, who _never_ forgot to close and lock his bedroom door, often double checking to make _sure_ it was locked at if he was guarding state secrets underneath his pillow, had forgotten to lock his door.

Shit.

Phichit took a slow step back, grabbing the knob to pull the door closed.He was a good friend.He _was_.He wasn’t going to snoop in Yuki’s room.The right thing to do would be to reach inside, turn the lock, and close the door so he would no longer be tempted.

Phichit took a step away from the door, staring intently at the decidedly unlocked door knob.Yuki wouldn’t know.Yuki had forgotten to lock his door, and he hadn’t come back, which meant he probably hadn’t realized.Phichit wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do anything _bad_ , exactly.He wouldn’t mess up Yuki’s stuff.Just… look around, see what his friend was so obsessive about keeping secret.

Phichit took another step away, closing his eyes. _Damn it, it wouldn’t be right_.It wouldn’t be morally right to do what he was thinking about doing.But Yuki wouldn’t know, not if Phichit didn’t tell him.Phichit took a deep breath and then let it out through his nose, closing his eyes.He shouldn’t snoop in Yuki’s room.But Yuki had been acting very oddly lately, enough that Phichit had wanted to go to Russia partly to support him, and partly to keep an eye on him.So maybe, if something was up… it wouldn’t be so bad to snoop.Just this once, while he had the chance.It wouldn’t be _so_ bad.

Phichit waited for a long moment, and then walked to the front door of their apartment and opened it slightly, peeking out and looking both ways down the hall before pulling it closed again with a small click.Yuki was gone to class, and hopefully wouldn’t come back for a while to find Phichit snooping in his room.And although he was supposed to have practice, Celestino was used to Phichit coming in a little late sometimes, especially in the few days following a big competition.It shouldn’t take too long to look around.Phichit could just go in, glance about a little, and leave without Yuki ever realizing.

He crept down the hall, careful to step silent, before realizing he was being stupid.No one was home, it wasn’t like anyone was going to catch him snooping.Walking more normally, Phichit made his way to Yuki’s room, only pausing for a moment before opening the door and flicking on the light.

Obviously, there wasn’t anything odd about Yuki’s room itself; Phichit had obviously been in it before, although not without Yuki, and it was pretty much the same layout as Phichit’s space.

Phichit smiled slightly when he noticed the small poster of Viktor Nikiforov above Yuki’s desk, and then slowly walked over and tried the drawer Yuki had stuffed his papers in just before going to class.He was only slightly surprised to find that it was locked shut, and took a step back to consider things.Yuki had clearly locked the drawer, so where did he keep the key?

Phichit’s eyes caught on the slightly open closet door next to the desk, and grinned.He stepped forward and nudged the door with his foot, opening it to reveal a completely normal closet, with some shirts and jackets hanging inside and shoes laid in neat rows on the floor.Phichit raised one eyebrow, and then smiled when he noticed the one shoe that was just a bit out of line.Sure enough, when he bent down and picked up the shoe there was a small metal key taped to the inside, the same color as the lock on Yuki’s drawer.

“Hello, my new friend,” Phichit murmured as he gently pried the key off the shoe, and then gently closed Yuki’s closet door again without another look.Phichit returned to the desk and knelt in front of the drawer, considering it carefully.

He felt like he was on the brink of something, as if once he made an action there would be no going back. In some ways that was true; Yuki was clearly hiding something, even if that something wasn’t important, and Phichit needed to know what it was.He was going to betray his roommate’s trust… but the reward could be incredible.

Phichit reaches out and gently slid the key into the lock, turning it until he heard a click and the drawer opened just a bit.Phichit bit his lip, and then dug his fingers into the small crack and pulled the drawer all the way open to reveal stacks of paper and other personal effects.

Phichit began to carefully pick through it all, careful not to disturb the order of Yuki’s papers.At first glance they weren’t anything interesting, just messy notes about something or other, but when Phichit looked closer he found that they were far more interesting than a summary of one of Yuki’s lectures.

_Connected to sm?_ read one in the center of the page, with lines extending outward like a web, connecting to other words and random names in a mixture of English and Japanese.Phichit frowned at the note and then set it aside, seeking it incomprehensible for the time being. 

He rifled through more of the papers, and then found a sheaf fastened together with several paper clips that actually made his jaw drop.It was an account of everything that had happened at the Rostelecom Cup, literally _everything_.In an odd mix of English, Japanese, and… was that Russian?And French?In some odd amalgamation of several different languages, Yuki had taken notes on the competition, as well as events before and after, some areas underlined or circled or written in bold for emphasis.

“This… is weird,” Phichit murmured, carefully setting the sheaf of notes on the floor beside him before turning his attention back to the drawer.He shifted a few more papers around before his fingers brushed cold metal, and Phichit frowned and shuffled the papers back before jerking back with a choked off scream.

Lying in the bottom of Yuki’s drawer, plain as could be under several layers of paper, were a gun and two knives.Phichit stared in horror at the drawer, panting, before slowly creeping closer again. OK, Yuki had a gun.His roommate had a gun.His kind, quiet, anxious, shy, _harmless_ roommate and friend had a gun. This was fine, this was normal- 

Heart in his throat, Phichit poked at the gun before determining that it _probably_ wasn’t going to jump to life and start shooting at him all on its own.But… the fact that Yuki even had a weapon, or thought he might need one, was more than a little disconcerting.Maybe it was because they were living in America?Phichit knew that there were looser gun laws in the United States than in Japan, maybe Yuki felt unsafe living in a city rather than the small town he always said he had grown up in.But that wouldn’t explain why he would be able to write in French or Russian…

Very carefully avoiding the gun, Phichit rifled through the drawer until he uncovered an official looking blue folder, embossed with some sort of seal on the front. He slid it out of the drawer and carefully laid it on the floor before flipping it open.

Inside were several official documents: an American visa, not for a student but for an “employee of an international organization.”A Japanese passport, with a picture that was undeniably Yuki and a name that undeniably wasn’t.An ID, a badge with the same seal as the folder and the same name as the passport, printed in both English and Japanese.

Phichit frowned, reeling, more confused than he had been in a long time, and then murmured,“Who the hell is Katsuki Yuuri?”

***

Viktor was skating in slow, pensive circles, staring up at the ceiling of the ice rink and contemplating the futility of his own existence when Yuri Plisetsky first approached him, one arm clutched around his ribs as he slid painstakingly slow across the ice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yuri snapped, the anger in his voice less convincing than he probably meant it to be.

Viktor barely spared him a glance.“What does it look like I’m doing?”He clasped his hands behind his back and added, “Should you even still be on the ice?You’re still injured.”

Yuri growled incoherently before snapping, “If you’re moping because your stupid boyfriend isn’t here, cut it out!”

Viktor was so surprised by that statement that he almost, _almost_ tangled his toe picks.“Yura,” he said in a level voice, very careful not to let too much emotion bleed into his words.“As much as I like Yuki, my world doesn’t revolve around him.”

Yuri scowled.“I know that, idiot,” he snapped.“Then why are you being so annoying?”

Viktor gave him a long look as he skated in another slow, backwards circle.“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yuri scowled, but before he could muster a retort Yakov roared from all the way across the rink, “Plisetsky!Off the ice, now!”

Yuri scowled at Viktor.“You’re fucking ungrateful,” he spat.  " _You_ get to skate, at least, and you’re _wasting_ it.Fuck you!”With that the teenager practically flounced away, as best he could flounce on the ice with fractured ribs, before disappearing into the locker rooms.

“You see what I had to deal with while you were in Moscow?” Georgi grumbled, skating up to Viktor and nudging him with just enough force to push him a little.

Viktor frowned.“He was like that the whole time Yakov was gone?” he asked.

Georgi shrugged.“I mean, Lilia was over here a lot to keep an eye on us,” he replied.“But Yura wasn’t exactly great anyway.”

Viktor made a small sound, although he was unsure of what he actually wanted to say, and shrugged.“He is at a difficult age, I suppose,” he said.

Georgi snorted, and then nudged Viktor again.“I’m planning on going out for a drink after practice, do you want to join me?”

Viktor gave him a bit of an odd look, and Georgi shrugged.“Drowning your sorrows with someone else is slightly better than drowning your sorrows alone,” he pointed out.

Viktor chuckled, what felt like the first laugh all day, and then shrugged.“I suppose it can’t hurt,” he said.“I’ll meet you after practice?”

Georgi nodded, and flashed Viktor a small smile.“After practice it is,” he agreed, and then skated away.

Sure enough, after Yakov released them Viktor and Georgi got changed before walking to a small bar not too far from the ice rink.

As soon as they had sat down at a small, dimly lit table in the back with their drinks, Georgi said, “So.How was Rostelecom?”

Viktor sighed, kneading his forehead tiredly.“I feel like that’s a loaded question,” he said carefully.

Georgi leaned back slightly, and gave Viktor a long look.“Why would that be a loaded question?” he asked.Viktor just shrugged, mostly unwilling to elaborate.Georgi took a long sip of his drink, eyes closed, and then said, “I’m not jealous of you, if that’s what you’re thinking.I’m not.”

“I didn’t say that you were,” Viktor said carefully.He sensed that this was for some reason a sensitive subject with Georgi, and kicked himself for not knowing or realizing that fact earlier.

Georgi set his glass down on the table and ran one finger around the rim, clearly thinking hard.“People assume I’m jealous of you a lot,” he said finally.“But there’s no point.Any jealousy I might have had still wouldn’t do any good.That’s part of your charm.”

Viktor looked down at his own drink, contemplating the alcohol within the glass.That was one of the things he _hated_ : getting put onto such a podium, held to such high standards that people didn’t think there was any point in being jealous of him as it would just lead to nowhere.He had honestly had no idea that that was how Georgi thought of him too, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.

That was how everyone was. Georgi, Yuri, Christophe... even Yuki, probably.

Even Yuki.Even sweet, lovely, wonderful Yuki probably out him up on the pedestal that had risen so tall that if he fell he would break his neck.Then again... Yuki has never indicated that he held Viktor up to impossible standards.He had let Viktor show him weakness, let Viktor show him something beyond the mask he always wore.And Yuki wouldn’t lie to him about something like that. Yuki wouldn't lie.

As if he could read Viktor’s mind, Georgi changed the subject and asked, “How are you and Yuki doing?”

Viktor mustered up his best smile.“We’re doing great!” he said with emotion that seemed to ring false no matter how much Viktor wanted to believe it. Georgi gave him a long look, and Viktor let the act drop.“We are actually good, I think,” he said quietly, smiling down at the table at the thought of his sort of boyfriend.  "He’s very sweet and wonderful and lovely to spend time with.”

“Are you two dating?Officially?” Georgi pressed.

Viktor made a face.“I hope so,” he replied.“I... I want to ask him out properly.After the Grand Prix Finals.”

Georgi smiled slightly and drained his drink, calling for another one.Viktor braced himself, and then asked, “And you and...?”

Georgi shook his head, digging his fingernails into the wood grain of the table.“It’s over,” he said, quiet but firm.“It was over for a long time, before we broke up.Before I even realized it.”

Viktor gave him a small smile.“It sounds like you’re starting to move on.”

Georgi made a dramatic face.“Me?Move on?Never.”He sobered with a small shake of his head, and admitted, “I’m a little relieved that I don’t have to skate those programs in the Grand Prix Finals, quite honestly.And then I only have Nationals and maybe Europeans.”

“What about Worlds?” Viktor asked.

Georgi shrugged.“They’ll send you and Yura,” he said.“Yura would have made it to the Finals if not for his ribs, and you’re... you.I don’t know if they’ll send me or not, after this season.”He shrugged slightly.“And then... we’ll see.”

“We’ll see,” Viktor agreed softly, looking down at the table.“I don’t know if I can win,” he said softly, almost too quietly for Georgi to hear.

The other man snorted.“You, lose?Please.”

Georgi’s eyes glinted in the dim light of the bar as he studied Viktor intently before raising his glass a little.Viktor snorted, but gestured slightly in acknowledgement of his friend’s slightly mocking toast.

Georgi took a long sip of his drink and then leaned back in his chair.“Anyone would be a fool to bet against you,” he said slowly, and then smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the length and lateness of this chapter, it was oddly difficult to write. Think of it as sort of an interlude, I suppose, before things pick up again.
> 
> The next chapter should be out on or around April 22th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	14. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the skaters arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this count as the calm before the storm? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Phichit stared down at the documents in front of him, head spinning, and then slowly flipped the cover of the folder closed again so he could look at the seal on the front.Looking closer and squinting, he ran his fingers over the embossed pattern before his eyes widened.He recognized it, now that he was looking at it in greater detail.Interpol.Holy shit, Yuki had a folder with official documents from Interpol, as well as weapons and secrets.

With trembling fingers Phichit opened the folder again, looking at the documents in a new light.Yuki was clearly using a fake name, although he wasn’t sure if the fake name was Nakamura Yuki or Katsuki Yuuri… and Yuki’s visa didn’t say he was a student, it said he was an employee of an international organization.Which would make sense if he worked for an organization like Interpol.That would also explain the weapons, the secrets, the fake names… Yuki was a spy.

Holy shit, Yuki was a spy.Yuki was a spy working for Interpol, who for some reason was undercover… as a skater?

Phichit pressed his lips together and rubbed his eyes, trying to refocus.This didn’t make any sense.If Yuki was really a spy, why would he go undercover as a figure skater, of all things?Unless there was something he was trying to get from a figure skater…Phichit absently ran his fingers over the documents before jerking them back as if he had touched a hot stove.Shit, Yuki might find his fingerprints on the documents, might know that Phichit had rifled through his things and discovered at least a layer of his secrets.And god, if Yuki was a spy, would he kill Phichit for finding out his secrets?

Phichit scrambled away from Yuki’s desk, heart beating in his throat and ears ringing as panic filled his chest.Shit, shit, shit, he had looked where he shouldn’t have, and now he might have to be _silenced_.He should have known… should have thought what he was going to go through with… 

With trembling hands Phichit shuffled the documents back in the folder and then closed it, making sure to put it back in the drawer exactly where he had found it.In a panicked haze, Phichit made sure everything looked as Yuki had left it before locking the drawer, returning the key, and closing the bedroom door behind him with a conscious effort to make sure it was locked.

Once back in his own room Phichit was able to breathe properly again, and sat down on his bed with his head between his hands to think things through.Yuki was a spy, probably, working for Interpol.Should Phichit tell someone?Probably not, he didn’t want to get taken out of the picture for talking too much.But what did Yuki want?What could he possibly want, what could _Interpol_ possibly want, that would necessitate an agent to go undercover as a figure skater?Phichit gritted his teeth, and then grabbed his laptop before settling back in bed.

Opening a private browser window, he only hesitated a moment before typing in the name from Yuki’s Interpol badge into the search engine.Katsuki Yuuri.The results took a moment to load, and Phichit blinked in surprise at what he saw.Instead of the newspaper reports and secret agent reports he had subconsciously expected to see, the first few results were about some figure skater names Katsuki Yuuri who had apparently been Junior World Champion several years before.

Phichit squinted, clicking on the link, and now that he thought about it he vaguely remembered an incredible Japanese skater winning Junior World a long time ago, when he was just starting out.There was a video linked to the article and Phichit clicked on it, raising an eyebrow when the skater on the screen began to skate.After training in the same rink as Yuki for several months, he was able to recognize the way his friend moved, even though the video was several years old. That was definitely Yuki, under the name Yuuri Katsuki, winning the Junior World Championships.

So was Yuki a spy, or a figure skater?He couldn’t possibly be _both_.

Phichit pinched the bridge of his nose, and then went back and searched more specifically, ‘katsuki yuuri + interpol.’This time different results came up, but they were either articles about Katsuki Yuuri the figure skater, or articles about Interpol.None of the dozen sources he clicked through in under a minute said anything about a possible Interpol agent named Katsuki Yuuri who might have gone undercover as a figure skater.Granted, it would make sense that is Yuki really was a spy, he would be harder to find that just a simple google search.

Phichit tapped his fingers against his keyboard thoughtfully, and then tried several variations of specific searches with the name Katsuki Yuuri and words that he thought might somehow relate to Yuki being a spy.It took him about an hour to finally find an article that looked promising, a stub of a newspaper from several months before about some diplomatic catastrophe in Shanghai.Phichit skimmed the story quickly gathering that someone who was assumed to work for Interpol had gotten in a lot of trouble… and the agent’s name, about halfway down the page, was spelled as Katsooki.

Phichit squinted.That wasn’t how the name on Yuki’s IDs had been spelled, but what were the odds that two people with similar names would both work for Interpol?Phichit huffed in frustration.He clearly wasn’t making any headway, not like this.

He would have to look deeper if he wanted answers, and now that the first bout of fear that had overwhelmed him before was over, he _knew_ he wanted answers. He needed to know what was going on.Sure, he was technically invading Yuki’s privacy, to some extent, but Yuki was also quite possibly a secret agent who had been lying to him for months.Phichit was justified in his prying, or so he told himself to silence the guilt making his stomach hurt as he prepared to do his utmost to find out the truth.

It took him another half hour of picking around in places online that he probably shouldn’t have been in before he uncovered another scrap of information, a list of college students from a university in Tokyo, Japan.From what Google Translate told him, Phichit was able to ascertain that the list was a collection of internship locations for students that were somehow connected to the university.And the address of internship for Katsuki Yuuri was, in fact, the address that Interpol gave on their web page for their location in Tokyo.

Phichit smiled slightly.It seemed that someone named Katsuki Yuuri, who had previously been a figure skating Junior Champion, had then gone on to university to get a degree before interning at Interpol.He must have joined, then, after he graduated.It was a bit of an odd jump between jobs, sure, but less farfetched than the notion that a secret agent could learn to skate as well as Yuki could in a few months.If Yuki really was a secret agent, there had to be some sort of previous experience, some sort of skill baseline that enabled him to be able to skate at a competitive level with equally talented athletes with very little notice.

Phichit leaned against his pillow and closed his eyes, considering the implications of what he had uncovered.Yuki, or Yuuri, was a figure skater turned spy, who for some reason had decided to go undercover and compete with a fake name as a figure skater again.But the fact that Interpol had assigned Yuki, despite the apparent catastrophic mistakes of someone with a similar to near identical name on a previous mission, which seemed to indicate that they needed someone who could figure skate, making Yuki the only choice.

So whatever was going on with Yuki, it had something to do with figure skating.But what could be the matter?Corruption?Bribery?Gambling?Sex trafficking?Phichit had already done enough research to know that Interpol wouldn’t get involved in something unless it was serious, unless there was something going on that the local police couldn’t handle.Something that was _dangerous_.

Phichit’s eyes snapped open as he heard the front door open, and he would have sworn that his heart skipped a beat.“Phichit?” Yuki called from the front of the apartment, and Phichit stayed silent.As far as Yuki was concerned, Phichit had already gone to the rink.He wouldn’t know to look for Phichit unless Phichit said or did something to attract his attention.

Silently, Phichit closed out of everything he had been doing on his laptop, cleared his search history, and then powered the device all the way down.Then he grabbed his phone and headphones, sticking the headphones into his ears and bobbing his head as though he was listening to music as he wandered into the kitchen.

“Oh, hey,” Yuki said, glancing up as Phichit came in.

Phichit startled theatrically and then took one of the headphones out of his ears as if he hadn’t heard Yuki arrive.“Hey, you’re back,” he said with a smile he desperately hoped looked real.

Yuki smiled back, looking a little confused.“Yes, my professor let us out a little early,” he said, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.“Thanks again for waking me up, Phichit, you’re a good friend.”

Phichit’s stomach sank guiltily even as he maintained his smile and said, “You seem a little more awake now, at least.”

Yuki chuckled.“I got a cup of coffee on the way back,” he said, and then grimaced.“Sorry.I didn’t even think to get you any.”

Phichit waved a had to dismiss his concerns, taking his headphones out of his silent phone and wrapping it in a coil around his fingers before stuffing both in his pocket.“Don’t worry about it.”

“How come you’re not at practice yet?” Yuki asked, setting his bag on the table and rummaging through it.

“Oh, there was a total social media emergency,” Phichit blurted, and winced, but Yuki didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh?” he mumbled, pulling a pen out and scribbling a note to himself on the palm of his hand.

“Yeah, Christophe Giacometti thinks that he can take better selfies than me,” Phichit tried with a nervous smile, and to his relief Yuki didn’t seem to notice how nervous he was.

“Well, he’s obviously wrong,” the other man said with a laugh in his voice, and Phichit resolved to start a selfie war with Chris as soon as he got home from practice, so he wouldn’t completely be lying to his friend.“Want to go to practice together, then?” Yuki suggested, and Phichit nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said.“Let me grab my things.”Yuki nodded in agreement, disappearing into his own room after unlocking the door Phichit had locked an hour before.

Phichit slumped against the kitchen counter, and pressed a hand to his mouth.God, now that he knew what exactly was up with Yuki, it felt _so_ weird to talk to him as if nothing had happened.The terrible guilt gnawed as Phichit’s insides, threatening to consume him until he beat it back.Yuki had lied to him, and had therefore possibly put him in danger just by associating with him.

Phichit wouldn’t necessarily trade his friendship with his roommate for safety- because they were _definitely_ still friends, despite all of Yuki’s deceptions- but now that Phichit knew that Yuki was more than he seemed, he would be able to better protect himself in an emergency.Spies had enemies, right?Probably.Yuki probably had enemies, and it would be better for Phichit to expect attack and not be caught off guard than to be completely ignorant.Definitely.He had made the right choice.And even if he hadn’t, there wasn’t really any going back on that decision now.

Yuki came back into the kitchen a few minutes later to find Phichit standing in almost the same position, brow furrowed in deep thought.Phichit startled for real when Yuki snapped his fingers in front of his nose.

“Are you alright?” Yuki asked in concern, and Phichit forced himself to smile and nod.

“I’m fine, I promise,” he said, and then laughed.“I guess I didn’t sleep very well last night either.”

Yuki grinned ruefully.“Sorry, my bad habits must be rubbing off on you,” he said.

Phichit waved a hand, unconcerned.“Oh, it’s fine,” he said.“Um, my bag is in the other room, I’ll actually go get it now.”He bolted down the hall, sure his face was ridiculously flushed, and grabbed his skating bag before returning to where Yuki was waiting by the front door.

“I’ll change at the rink,” Yuki sighed, fiddling with the zipper on his bag as he and Phichit left and Phichit locked the apartment door behind them.“Ciao Ciao already knows that you’re going to be late, I’m sure, but I don’t want him to get mad at me more than he has to.”

“Um, yeah, definitely, he definitely knows I’m coming late,” Phichit squeaked, his voice cracking.

Yuki shot him an amused glance.“You forgot to text him?”

“It, um… would have messed up my selfie game?” Phichit tried, and Yuki snorted.

Phichit grinned, for a moment forgetting that his friend was a spy.Yuki definitely didn’t _seem_ like a spy.He wasn’t a suave, James Bond type of person, nor could Phichit really imagine him in any sort of honeypot scheme.But maybe his unassuming nature was what made him dangerous.Phichit blinked when he realized he had been staring awkwardly at his friend, trying to imagine him doing spy-like things like jumping off buildings or getting in car chases.

Yuki blinked owlishly at him from behind his glasses, bangs flopping over his forehead.“Um…”

Phichit looked away quickly.“Um, sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’re kind of out of it today, aren’t you,” Yuki observed.

“Yeah, I guess,” Phichit mumbled.He couldn’t tell his friend that he knew he was a spy.That would _never_ go well.Yuki might have him arrested or something.But if he kept thinking like this, thinking about Yuki’s secrets whenever he looked at him, thinking about the guns and knives and fake IDs in Yuki’s drawers and the name that wasn’t even _his_ , he was going to drive himself insane.

Phichit laughed.“I’m just kind of…”he trailed off, and Yuki nodded sympathetically.

“Same,” he agreed.“I understand.”

“Hey, do you want any help with your homework?” Phichit offered, mostly to get his mind off the mantra of _Yuki is a spy, your roommate is a spy, your friend is a spy_.

Yuki made an odd sound in the back of his throat, almost like a small choking sound, and then said, “Thanks, but I’ve got it.And I’m sure you’ve got your own work.”

Phichit nodded, the questions in his head only getting louder.Clearly whatever Yuki had been up late doing had to do with his secrets, or else he wouldn’t have acted so suspiciously.Or was Phichit reading into everything Yuki did now that he knew his friend was a spy?God, this paranoia was going to kill him.He couldn’t keep doing this.He had to figure _everything_ out, or all the questions he had were going to drive him insane.

And so, Phichit resolved as he and Yuki arrived at the rink to find an irate Celestino, that was exactly what he would do.

***

Phichit was definitely acting weird, Yuuri decided, the third time Phichit jumped when Yuuri came up behind him without making much noise.They were in the airport waiting for their flight to Barcelona, and although the terminal was crowded with people waiting for their flights, Phichit only seemed to be startled when Yuuri came up behind him, almost as if he was… scared of Yuuri.

Yuuri plopped into the seat next to his friend and said, “Hey, I thought I was supposed to be the anxious one.Are you alright?”

Phichit didn’t look up from his phone, but Yuuri could see that he was gripping it a little tighter than he normally did as he scrolled through Instagram.“I’m fine,” Phichit said, something that could have been either a smile or a grimace tugging at his lips.“I’m just a little nervous about the competition, I guess?”

Yuuri leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic airport seat and sighed, closing his eyes and stretching his neck.“So am I.”

Phichit glanced up.“You’re going to do great, Yuur- Yuki,” he said.Yuuri, with his eyes closed and his focus elsewhere, didn’t notice the slip.

“Thanks,” he mumbled.“So are you.”

“Thanks,” Phichit said, and this time Yuuri could hear the genuine smile in his voice.“I hope so.”

Yuuri pressed one hand to his face, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses.Airports put him on edge.There were so many different people from so many different places, and it was impossible to know the intentions of every single one of them, impossible to know where danger might come from.

Yuuri knew that there would be far more danger once he was around Viktor again… but after his failure in Shanghai, he was always on guard more in places like this where _anyone_ could recognize him and approach him.It was best to stay on guard at all times, even if it made him anxious.

Yuuri wracked his brains, trying to keep straight all of the names and faces of the suspect list he had memorized before he had left.For security reasons he wasn’t allowed to print anything to bring with him, and had had to delete the email that Minako had sent him to erase any evidence he might have had.

Once in Barcelona, the stakes would rise again.The people after Viktor might strike, might try to take him out before he would inevitably win the Grand Prix Finals.And Yuuri would have to stop them.

But the thing was, there hadn’t been any more threats delivered to Viktor since the Rostelecom Cup, at least from what Yuuri had heard from Yakov by way of Minako.Sure, Viktor might have taken to destroying the threats again… but the fact that no one had heard anything from the people threatening Viktor in several days was unnerving, to say the least.

Yuuri felt more and more like Interpol was flailing around in the dark going after every sound and speck of a clue in the hopes of bumping into the correct suspect, but everything had gone dark and they were completely lost and clueless.It was frustrating, so goddam frustrating.Yuuri felt like he wasn’t doing anything helpful, wasn’t doing anything that would help save Viktor from the people who wanted to hurt him.And the closer Yuuri got to Viktor, the more he got to know him and grew to care for him, the more he _knew_ he needed to make sure that nothing would happen to hurt Viktor.

“Hey, Yuki?” Phichit said, poking Yuuri on the shoulder.Yuuri tensed and relaxed quickly, recognizing his friend’s voice as soon as he had said something, but when he opened his eyes Phichit looked nervous again.

“Sorry,” Yuuri said, not quite sure what he was apologizing for.

Phichit shook his head.“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he said.“Um, they just announced our group’s turn to board.”

Yuuri cursed himself, cursed his inattention.He should have been paying better attention.If he was this fuzzy and off focus around Viktor, Viktor might get killed.Yuuri got to his feet and grabbed his backpack, checking to make sure his phone was still in his pocket.

“Is Ciao Ciao back from the bathroom?” he asked.

Phichit snickered.“He went to get a coffee just before they called our turn,” he said.“He claimed that Starbucks is better than the shitty coffee they give on the plane.We came save him a spot in line.”

Yuuri nodded.“Works for me.”

The two figure skaters got in line for the plane, and sure enough, Celestino joined them with a cup of coffee in hand just as they reached the gate where the agent checked their boarding passes.“What seat do you want?” Phichit asked Yuuri as they walked down the jet bridge to the plane.

Yuuri considered that, and asked quietly, “Do you mind if I have the aisle?”

Phichit shook his head.“As long as Ciao Ciao doesn’t.”

“I don’t what?” Celestino asked, looking up from his coffee.“Ah, yes, that’s fine, Yuki.”

Yuuri smiled at his friend and coach as they found their row and took their seats, Celestino pulling out a newspaper and Phichit plugging his headphones into his phone to watch a movie.Yuuri leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes again, trying to quiet the storm in his mind.

Minako had told him that Interpol was sending someone to Barcelona besides him, Morooka, and Oda.It would be nice to see Minami again, after not seeing him since everything that had happened in France.And it would be nice to see Viktor again.Without meaning to, Yuuri smiled slightly as he thought about his friend/sort of boyfriend.What exactly they were to each other was still up in the air, still complicated and confusing, but it would be lovely to see him again.

Around him the rest of the passengers settled in their own seats, the low hum of conversation surprisingly easy on Yuuri’s nerves, so much so that he hardly noticed when the plane took off.

Yuuri spent the several hour flight trying to reorganize his thoughts and plan his next move.In the past, the threats against Viktor had been graphic, if slightly vague in the timing sense.But now that the people who were after Viktor had apparently stopped sending threats, Yuuri was flying in the dark.He would have to be paying careful attention to everyone who was around Viktor.Despite Yakov’s apparent skepticism in France, Yuuri did think that semi-dating Viktor would help with keeping him safe.It would give him more of a reason to be around Viktor, to make sure that no one dangerous could approach him.

By the time the plane had landed Yuuri had worked himself into an odd state of frantic peace; he was desperate to keep Viktor safe, and was at peace with the fact that he might have to make sacrifices to accomplish that, but the fact that there was nothing he could actively do to protect Viktor was driving him half insane.He must have been acting a little weird, because Phichit seemed on edge again, eyes flickering around and posture slightly stiff as they entered the airport and headed to customs and immigration.Yuuri tried to ignore it, knowing that it would put him on edge as well, and instead looked around the airport.

The airport in Barcelona was crowded, although not horribly so, and all around them people were hurrying about, calling out, and talking to each other in a cacaphony of Spanish, Catalan, English, and a few languages Yuuri didn’t speak or recognize.It didn’t take them as long as Yuuri would have expected to get through immigration and customs and to collect their bags, all things considered, and before he knew it they were in a cab and on their way to their hotel.

By that time jet lag had begun to kick in, and Yuuri fought to keep his eyes open during the drive.They had gotten up earlier even than they had to for practice in order to catch their flight, but between the length of the flight and the time difference between Barcelona and Detroit, it was already quite late.Next to him in the cab Phichit was dozing, drooling a bit on the collar of his shirt even as he clutched his phone in one hand like a comfort object, and even Celestino seemed to be nodding off in the front seat.

When they reached their hotel Yuuri tried to focus enough to keep track of Phichit and Celestino.He was glad, at least, that since they knew there would be three of them at the competition ahead of time, they had booked two rooms with three beds between them so no one would have to sleep on the couch.Yuuri daydreamed about his bed as they checked into the hotel and rode up to their floor in the elevator.

The pillows were just as soft as Yuuri had dreamed of when he collapsed face first in them after Celestino let he and Phichit into the room they were sharing, and Yuuri wasted no time in pulling blankets over himself, heedless of his shoes and clothes on the bed.Phichit, clearly of a similar mind, slumped onto his own bed with a muffled, happy sound.

Celestino gave a tired chuckle.“At least change, alright?” he said.

“Got it, coach,” Phichit said blearily.Yuuri groaned without taking his face out of the mountain of pillows on his bed, but at least toed off his shoes.Almost zombie like, the two skaters moved to get ready to sleep once their coach had gone to his own room, and once they were done gratefully crawled back into bed.

“We should sightsee tomorrow,” Phichit slurred, already half asleep, and Yuuri grunted in agreement before snuggling further into his blankets. It was less than a minute before they were both dead to the world.

***

Viktor was with Yakov when he first spotted Yuki and Phichit in the hotel’s small restaurant the morning before the competition began.He wasted no time in heading over, ignoring Yakov’s irritation, and plopped down in the chair next to Yuki at the table he and Phichit were sharing, startling them both.

“Fancy meeting you here!” Viktor said cheerfully as Yuki tried not to choke on the bagel he had been chewing.

“Viktor!” Yuki squeaked as soon as he had successfully swallowed his bite of breakfast, blushing adorably.

Viktor gave him a bright, brilliant smile.“It’s lovely to see you, Yuki,” he said in an intentionally flirtatious voice, lilting Yuki’s name.

Yuki blushed harder and busied himself with his napkin, folding and unfolding one of the corners.“It’s nice to see you too, Viktor,” he said shyly, and then looked up with a small smile.

Phichit coughed into his hand, and then said with a teasing smile, “Should I leave?I feel like a bit of a third wheel here.”

Yuki’s eyes widened, and he unconsciously jerked back from Viktor a bit, much to Viktor’s disappointment.“Ahh, sorry, Phichit,” Yuki mumbled.He looked down at his plate, and absently began to play with his napkin again.

Viktor cleared his throat awkwardly to dispel the silence, and then asked, “Do you two have any plans for the day?”

“I think we were going to go sight seeing?” Yuki said tentatively.“Um, I don’t know the city very well.”

“Neither do I,” Viktor said without thinking.

“You two should go on a few dates out here,” Phichit suggested suddenly, but in a way that Viktor decided he had given the matter a fair amount of thought.

Yuki blinked.“I wouldn’t want to abandon you,” he started, but Phichit dismissed that worry with an unconcerned wave with his hand.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said.“You two should go out and have fun, I know how hard long distance is.Just please take him back to your room, Viktor, not the other way around.I’d rather not be sleepless all night, thank you.”

Yuki and Viktor both went red at that, and Yuki tried to deny it while Viktor just covered his face and wished for death.Phichit laughed for a moment, and then said through his amusement, “Seriously, you should go sight seeing together.I really don’t mind.”

Viktor bit his lip, torn between his desire to take Yuki out, and guilt about taking away from his friend and rink mate.Yuki answered for him, saying, “Maybe, um… if you wanted, we could go out in the evening?And I could spend the morning with Phichit?I mean, do you have practice as well, Viktor?”

“He most certainly does,” Yakov said from behind Viktor, having finally made his way over to where they were sitting.Viktor winced.Damn. Practice.Right.He had forgotten about that.

Viktor smiled innocently up at his coach.“Can I give my practice time to Gosha or Yura?” he asked.Georgi and Yuri had both come to Barcelona to watch Viktor and Mila compete in their respective events, but Viktor knew that since neither were competing they probably wouldn’t be able to get any ice time.

“Absolutely not,” Yakov snapped, and gestured irately.“Get up.You can go on dates after you win.”

Viktor glanced at Yuki and Phichit, not surprised to find them both looking a little nervous and embarrassed.Neither could speak Russian, of course, but Yakov’s scolding tone often transcended language barriers.Viktor sighed heavily, and then got to his feet, although not before leaning in and giving Yuki a quick kiss on the lips.“I’ll see you later, if you want to go out,” he said with a happy smile, and Yuki smiled tentatively back.

“I’ll see you later, Viktor,” he replied, and then Viktor let his coach lead him away.

Practice was, as Viktor had expected, dreadfully boring.He had to share the ice with a few other skaters, and didn’t want to give away any surprises in his program, so he stuck to the basics.Viktor knew he was really just going through the motions, and he was sure Yakov could tell as well, but neither of them said anything.They both knew that the practice didn’t really matter, not this late in the game.

Unless something drastic happened, Viktor would win his sixth consecutive Grand Prix Final in the next few days, so a few hours of practice wasn’t going to make a difference.

It was a relief when practice ended and Viktor could get off the ice to let the next practice group on.To no surprise both Phichit and Yuki were among them, and Viktorflashed Yuki a smile as they passed, Yuki on his way to the ice and Viktor headed for the locker room. 

Much to Yakov’s irritation Viktor opted to stay at the rink after getting a quick lunch, to “watch his competition.”Viktor settled himself in the stands, attention immediately fixed on Yuki.The younger man’s skating was as enrapturing as ever, his spins tight and his step sequences clean and emotive, and Viktor spent the next few hours alternating between watching him and dealing with emails and social media.

He caught Yuki after practice just as the other skater was leaving the locker room, now dressed in jeans and a soft blue sweater.Yuki smiled as soon as he spotted Viktor, and as soon as Viktor was within earshot said, “I didn’t expect to still see you here.”

Viktor smiled back.“I wanted to watch the practice,” he said, and winked.“It’s always a good idea to watch my competition.”

Yuki smiled slightly behind his hand.“I don’t know if I exactly count as competition,” he said, and Viktor immediately shook his head.

“You are, Yuki,” he insisted.“You are competition, competition I should really be worried about.”

Yuki smiled slightly at that, and Viktor offered him his hand a little shyly.“Do you want to walk back to the hotel with me?”

Yuki’s smile widened, and he took Viktor’s hand, lacing their fingers together.“I’d love to.”And despite the fact that Viktor had spent the last few hours on a bench in the rink that wasn’t exactly comfortable, he was happy.

Viktor was still oddly happy when he and Yuki got back to the hotel, still holding hands.“Would you like to get dinner with me, Viktor?” Yuki asked, and Viktor gave him a soft smile.

“I’d love to,” he replied, squeezing Yuki’s fingers and giving him a quick peck on the lips.“Will you let me change?”

Yuki smiled.“Of course.”They rode up in the elevator together, and Viktor decided not to say anything when they passed the floor he was pretty sure Yuki was staying on and continued on to Viktor’s floor.

Yuki hesitated for a moment outside Viktor’s door, until Viktor gently took his hand and led him inside.“It’s not a big deal,” he said, and then hesitated.“Unless you wanted to change as well?”

Yuki shook his head.“I think I’m fine as I am,” he said, and then glanced uncertainly down at himself.

Viktor took a moment to appreciate the fact that Yuki didn’t seem to know exactly how beautiful he was, and then gave him a kiss on the top of his head.“I think you’re lovely, dorogoy.”

Yuki blinked innocently up at him.“What does that mean?” he asked, and Viktor blushed.

“It means darling,” he said, watching the pink creep up Yuki’s neck.He mumbled something in Japanese, leaning against a smiling Viktor.

“I need to change, if we’re actually going to get dinner,” Viktor said after a few pleasant minutes of hugging Yuki in the middle of his hotel room.Yuki immediately let go, adjusting his glasses and smoothing back his hair in what Viktor assumed was an attempt to hide his embarrassment. 

Viktor smiled, and then gave Yuki one last kiss before detaching himself and heading for his suitcase for a change of clothes.Yuki looked around his hotel room in slightly awkward interest as Viktor dug his dinner clothes out of the suitcase, bundling them into his arms as he went into the bathroom and left the door open a crack.

Viktor changed quickly, humming under his breath, and took the opportunity to fix his hair in the mirror and quickly eat a breath mint from his toiletries bag.When he returned to the main part of his hotel room with his sweaty practice clothes in his hands, he found Yuki standing by the bed.

It was only then that Viktor noticed the piece of paper clenched in Yuki’s hands, his bloodless face and terrified eyes.

“Viktor,” Yuki whispered, his voice catching as his eyes flicked down again to the paper in his hands.“What is this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for your patience with me and my lateness on this fic, it means a lot. Keep an eye out for the next chapter on or around May ~~6th~~ 8th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a great day, dear reader!


	15. The Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a relationship is born and some hope dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two days late isn't too bad, I suppose... thank you everyone for your patience :) After several chapters that were relatively warning free this one is fairly heavy and was actually difficult for me to write, so please read the warnings.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: 1) Viktor isn't always in the best state of mind during this chapter, and isn't making the best choices for his personal health or wellbeing. 2) VIOLENCE: More details in the end notes, so please read if you think it might be an issue
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimed: I own nothing.

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat, and not in the nice way like when he saw Yuki’s eyes bright under the sun.

He quickly crossed the room, and gently took the piece of paper from Yuki’s clenched, trembling fingers.“I don’t know unless I look at it,” he pointed out gently, and Yuki released the paper with a small exhale.

Viktor glanced down at the letter, his breath catching in his throat.After about a week of receiving no threats, the people who were out to get him had somehow put a threatening letter in his locked hotel room, right on top of his pillow.The letter was fairly similar to the ones he had gotten in the past- threatening his life, the lives of the people he cared about, explicit in threat but vague in time- but what stood out to Viktor was that the letter was in Russian.Russian, a language Yuki couldn’t read.

“Yuki,” Viktor said quietly, looking up from the letter to see Yuki gazing at him with soft, slightly confused eyes.“How were you able to understand this?”

Yuki blushed a little, a wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows.“I didn't, not completely,” he replied.“It is in Russian, after all.But I’ve been texting Yuri a little about video games when we play together, and well…” He came to stand by Viktor’s side, peering over his shoulder, before lightly touching one word in Cyrillic.убивать.“I think I know what that means,” Yuki whispered.“Yuri says it enough, jokingly."

Viktor swallowed hard."It's a joke here, as well," he said."This is Yuri's handwriting, although you probably haven't ever seen it.He's threatening to eviscerate me if I bring someone back with me tonight, since we’re sharing a room.”

Yuki smiled slightly, looking relieved.“Oh, alright,” he said.“Sorry, it just seemed a bit odd.”

Viktor forced a smile as well, and said, “Well, you know how Yuri is.”

Yuki chuckled.“Sure.”

Viktor folded the letter in his hands without looking away from Yuki’s face, and then murmured, “Can I kiss you?”

Yuki smiled slightly.“Of course.”

Viktor gently cupped Yuki’s face in his hands and leaned in, kissing him on the lips.“I’m sorry if you were worried,” he whispered, hoping his voice didn’t sound as weak as he thought it did.“There’s really nothing to worry about, just Yuri being himself.”

Yuki kissed him again, smiling against his lips.“Of course.”

Viktor leaned his forehead against Yuki’s, gazing into his eyes.“Do you still want to go out to dinner?” he asked cautiously, and Yuki blinked in surprise before exclaiming, “Of course!” 

Viktor smiled slightly, brushing his thumb over Yuki’s cheek.“Do you want to get a jacket from your room?” he asked.“I think it’s a little chillier outside than it was this morning.”His eyes widened slightly as an incredibly attractive thought occurred to him, and then he smiled slyly.“Or you could borrow a jacket from me.”

Yuki’s pupils widened almost imperceptibly, and Viktor thought he heard his breath catch.Viktor’s grin widened slightly.“You know, it might be quicker,” he said, and then let go of Yuki.“Hold on a moment.”

Viktor stepped away and grabbed a light jacket from on top of his suitcase before handing it to Yuki with a small smile.“Won’t you be cold?” Yuki asked worriedly even as he took the jacket.

Viktor smiled.“I’m Russian, Yuki,” he pointed out.

Yuki laughed quietly at that, and then shrugged on the slightly too big coat before snuggling into it a little.“This is warm,” he observed, cheeks stained pink, and Viktor couldn’t resist kissing him on the cheek.

“You’re so cute,” he blurted.

Yuki’s eyes widened slightly, and then he smiled bashfully up at Viktor.You’re cuter,” he replied, and Viktor was surprised to find that he was blushing.

“Thank you,” he stammered.

Yuki reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together.“Are you ready to go, then?I’m hungry.”

Viktor swung their hands a little between them as he let Yuki lead him out the door of his hotel room, making sure it was closed and locked behind them.“Starved.Famished.I could eat a horse.”

Yuki laughed again, and squeezed Viktor’s hand a little.“I’m rather hungry as well.”

“How did you practice go?” Viktor asked as they neared the elevators and came to a stop to wait.

Yuki made a face.“It was fine,” he said.“Not great.I hope I’m ready for the short program tomorrow.”

“From where I was sitting, you looked wonderful,” Viktor said honestly.

“Well you’re my boyfriend, you’re supposed to think that,” Yuki grumbled, and then his eyes widened when he realized what he had said.

Viktor stared at him, mouth slightly open.“Boyfriend?” he repeated, and Yuki let go of his hand and took a step back, waving his hands desperately in front of his face.

“Ahh, I’m so sorry!” he exclaimed.“I didn’t mean to say that!Just forget I said anything!”

Viktor’s smile slowly grew until he felt like it would envelop his entire face.“I would love to be your boyfriend, Yuki,” he said inslightly teasing voice, reaching out to take both of Yuki’s hands in his.Behind them the elevator dinged as it arrived, but they both ignored it.“I had kind of hoped that we might be something more,” Viktor admitted in a soft voice, looking down at Yuki’s slightly smaller hands cupped in his palms.“But I didn’t want to say anything, in case you didn’t want to really be with me.I haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, I’m a little bit out of practice.”

Yuki’s cheeks were flushed again, his eyes bright, but when he spoke his voice was steady.“I would be honored to be your boyfriend, Viktor,” he said in the same, hushed voice Viktor had adopted.“I wasn’t quite sure either but I… I’m glad I didn’t scare you away.”

Viktor smiled at him.“So we’re boyfriends now?” he checked, just to make sure.

Yuki smiled slowly.“I guess we are, yes.”

Viktor swooped in and kissed him on the cheek.“I’m so glad!”

Yuki laughed before kissing him on the lips.“Phichit’s never going to let me live this down.”

Viktor nuzzled Yuki’s nose with his own, overflowing with happiness.He had gotten so attached to Yuki in a relatively short time, seeing each other only at competitions and texting as much as they could, and he couldn’t quite describe how ecstatic he was that he could now call Yuki his boyfriend, his real, _actual_ boyfriend.“Yuri will probably kick me,” Viktor admitted with a tiny, fond smile.

Yuki’s eyes crinkled in a wide smile.“Doesn’t he anyway?”

“Good point,” Viktor conceded with a small laugh.

“Is your coach going to be alright with this?” Yuki suddenly asked, worry filling his eyes.

Viktor pursed his lips.“I don’t know why he wouldn't be.”

Yuki hemmed and hawed a moment, and then said in the quietest voice imaginable, “I know Russia’s not exactly… the best place for, I mean… um…”

“Yakov’s fine,” Viktor said firmly.“He doesn’t really like me bringing strange men home, because he’s concerned with my safety for whatever reason, but I know he likes you.After all, he knows you, and I haven’t brought anyone home pretty much since I met you.”

Yuki blinked in surprise. “Really?”

Viktor shrugged sheepishly.“You’re much more fun to talk to than some random bed partner I met a few hours before,” he said honestly.

Yuki squeezed his hands, looking both pleased and embarrassed.Viktor laughed quietly.“Are you ready to go to dinner?” he asked.“We can celebrate our newly official relationship.”

Yuki smiled at that.“I don’t think anyone will be particularly surprised,” he replied.Viktor reached out and jammed the button on the elevator again, and then slung an arm around Yuki’s shoulders while they waited.

“What should we tell the press?” Yuki said quietly after a moment.“I mean, I know that you live a much more public life than I do, but even I get interviewed occasionally.”

“There have been rumors about us, of course,” Viktor said with a small smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Yuki’s head.“I’ve never been particularly subtle, after all.But I don’t think we need to say anything.They can make their own conclusions, and we can live our lives.”Yuki nodded a little before leaning his head against Viktor’s shoulder.

They fell silent as they waited, and the quiet lasted as they got into the elevator when it finally arrived.For one floor, at least.The elevator shuddered to a stop at the floor just below Viktor’s, and Yuki flinched slightly when the doors slid open to someone shouting.

“That sounds like Yura,” Viktor murmured, stomach sinking.The person just outside the doors shouted something nearly unintelligible before stepping into the elevator, bringing someone else with him.

The elevator doors closed on Yuri’s furious yelling from down the hall, and the man who had entered the elevator turned to face Viktor and Yuki, the woman at his side giving them a smile.“Viktor Nikiforov,” the man said, and Viktor frowned in confusion.The man looked vaguely familiar- he was clearly younger even than Yuki, with a dark undercut and glittering dark eyes, and something in the way he held himself seemed familiar- but for the life of him Viktor couldn’t figure out his name.

“Hello, um… sir,” Viktor said uncertainly.

The young man glared at him, eyes narrowed.“Do you not know who I am?” he said suspiciously.

Viktor ran his fingers through his bangs, frantically searching his memory.“Um, sorry, I-” he said, and then winced when Yuki elbowed him in the side.

“Leroy,” Yuki hissed, and Viktor blinked.

“What?” he said, turning to his boyfriend.

Yuki wiggled his eyebrows significantly.“Leroy,” he whispered again, barely audible, and the man in the elevator said with them, “How can you not know who I am?”

“Are you… Leroy?” Viktor guessed, and the man sneered at him.

“You only know that because your friend told you,” he said accusingly.

Viktor shrugged.“Sorry?” he said, and then slid his arm around Yuki’s waist and pulled him a little closer.“I’m not good with names.”

As if in response Leroy put an arm around his own girlfriend’s shoulders, gently pulling her against his side.“I’m JJ Leroy,” he said brashly.“Of Canada?”He let go, and made an odd shape with both of his hands.“It’s JJ Style?”

Viktor shook his head slowly.Not ringing a bell,” he admitted, wincing when Yuki elbowed him again.At this rate, he was going to have a bruise bigger than the time Yuri had “accidentally” tripped him in the middle of a triple on the ice.

JJ scowled fiercely at Viktor.“This is why it’s time for you to retire,” he snapped.“Clearly you’re getting old if you can’t even name your greatest competition.”

Viktor frowned.He _knew_ who his greatest competition was- and he found it hard to believe that this man was it.His arrogance irritated Viktor, and in a fit or annoyance he snapped in return, “I didn’t know that your name was Christophe Giacometti, or Nakamura Yuki, or Phichit Chulanont, or Otabek Altin.”

JJ’s scowl deepened.“You’ll know my name when I’ve knocked you off the podium,” he said hotly just as the elevator came to a stop on the ground floor and the doors slid open to reveal the bustling lobby of the hotel.Viktor brushed past him, still clinging to Yuki, but just as he left JJ shouted at his back, “I will beat you even if it kills me, and then you’ll know my name!Your time to win is _over!”_

Viktor paused.“Sorry, what was that?” he said quietly, not turning. The words struck a chord within him, and seemed vaguely familiar.It almost sounded like… sounded like something he might have read in a threatening letter, once upon a time.  Not that JJ was the first to say something like that to him, of course.

_Your time to win is over…_

“Viktor,” Yuki said quietly, tugging at his hand.“Let’s just go, alright?Please don’t let him ruin your night.”

Viktor’s jaw clenched, but he let his boyfriend lead him out of the hotel and onto the street.“Do you know him?” he said once they were a few minutes away from the hotel, mind still churning, and fist still clenched with irritation and some strange defensiveness.

Yuki shook his head.“Not personally, no,” he said.“But Phichit’s competed against him before.From what he’s said JJ is supposed to be… competitive, but not absolutely insane?I don’t know where that came from.” They stopped off to the side a little, and Yuki reached up to cup Viktor’s face with one hand, the fingers of his other hand still twined with Viktor’s.“I’m sorry, Viktor,” he said.“That’s probably not the first time you’ve heard that, is it?”

Viktor’s lips twisted slightly. The third time he had won worlds, one of the competitors he had just barely beat out, someone who had won silver for several years in a row, had come up to him and told him more or less the same thing.But now, the words seemed to hold more weight.

_Retire… your time to win is over…_

Even Chris, who Viktor knew and trusted and considered a friend, probably felt the same way about Viktor sometimes.Most other competitors just knew enough not to spit their resentment in Viktor’s face.

“Yes, I’ve heard things like that before,” Viktor admitted in a hoarse voice, trying not to let anything show on his face.

Yuki stood on his tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Viktor’s thin lips.“I’m sorry,” he said again, and Viktor looked down at his open face, the pity in his eyes.

“Don’t be,” Viktor said quietly, trying his hardest not to let his voice break.“It’s not your fault.It’s human nature to be jealous.”

Yuki sighed, sliding his arms around Viktor’s waist and hugging him, leaning his head on Viktor’s chest.“I wish people could be nice to each other,” he whispered, and Viktor barked out a small laugh in reply.

“So do I, Yuki,” he murmured, hugging Yuki back and burying his face in his lovely, sweet boyfriend’s hair, fists clenched in the fabric of Yuki’s borrowed coat.“So do I.”

***

Viktor woke up in the middle of the night, sheets sweaty and tangled around his legs and a scream welling up in his throat.He sat up quickly, heartbeat pounding behind his ribs and breathing dry and raspy against his tongue, and rubbed at his face as he took his bearings.He was still in his hotel room, nothing had happened.He was fine, if upset.He was safe.

Viktor pressed a trembling hand to his mouth as he fought back the urge to vomit, his breathing quickening again.Oh god, oh god, oh god.The threatening letters must have been getting to him more than he realized.

Why else would he have dreamed about Yuki, about Makkachin, about Yuri, and Yakov, and Georgi, and Mila, and Chris, and everyone else he cared about, all dead on the floor of his apartment back home in St. Petersburg, their blood dripping from the walls and and staining the carpet and making the air sick with the smell of death?

Viktor gripped his hair and tugged, stifling a sob against his knees.This had to stop, this had to _stop._ He couldn’t keep thinking about this, he couldn’t keep thinking about Yuri’s body splayed on the couch with one small hand hanging over the armrest, about Yakov’s body slumped next to the window, about Yuki’s body hardly recognizable except for his blue framed glasses leaning against the wall, the warnings and threats painted on his walls with their blood… 

Viktor stumbled out of bed and made his way as quietly as possible to the bathroom, leaning over the sink to splash cold water on his face.He closed the door before turning on one of the lights, staring at his haunted reflection in the mirror.For the first time he noticed the tears streaked on his cheeks, and rubbed at his eyes until the stinging tears behind his eyes had gone away.

Viktor braced himself against the counter and stared at himself in the mirror, his breathing still a little shaky.He stared at the dark shadows under his anguished eyes, his disheveled hair and pale skin. Viktor numbly grabbed his comb off the counter from where he had left it before his date with Yuki the day before, getting it wet before tugging it through his hair without caring how much it hurt.

Once Viktor had fixed his hair he set about getting out some of his make up, and started to cover the dark shadows under his eyes.He couldn’t skate like this, he was a disgrace.He couldn’t skate like this, not half dead, but at least he wasn’t fully dead, not like-

Viktor pressed both hands to his face, careless of the make up on his finger that streaked across his cheek, and tried to stop the tears welling up in his eyes from falling.He hadn’t felt so trapped, so broken, in a long time… silly that something imaginary, something like a dream that took everything away from him, could do something like this to him.

Tears leaked out from in between Viktor’s fingers as he sank down to sit on the bathroom floor, giving up on trying not to cry.He muffled his sobs into his hands, quiet so as not to wake up Yuri, and let the emptiness in his chest take over.So _this_ was what it would feel like if everyone he loved died, or at least a fraction of how it would feel.He _couldn’t_ let this happen.

The next threatening letter he got, he would retire.That was a promise to himself he could keep.The next threatening letter he would take as gospel truth, and he would drop his career to save the people he loved.All it would take was one more letter, one more to convince him that he really had to give up his career and livelihood, and then Viktor would disappear from the public eye and never step foot on the ice again.As much as it hurt to think of, the pit in his chest at the thought of his friends and his coach and his boyfriend hurt a hundred, a thousand, a million times more.

Viktor looked up sharply as the door to the bathroom jiggled, and then Yuri said irritably from the other side, “What the fuck are you doing, Viktor?I need to take a piss.”

Viktor pushed himself to his feet, and said in a hoarse voice, “Sorry, Yura, I’ll be out in a moment.”He reached over and flushed the toilet as if he had been using it before quickly splashing water on his face before drying it off.When he opened the door, chin dipped so that his face wasn’t visible, he found Yuri waiting outside with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Fucking finally,” Yuri snapped, pushing past him.“I have to piss like a fucking racehorse.”

Viktor’s lips twitched at that in spite of himself, and he let Yuri get by into the bathroom.Once Yuri had closed the door again, plunging their hotel room into darkness again, Viktor felt his way to bed and got back under the covers.He settled into the slight depression in the mattress where he had been lying before waking up and stared at the dark ceiling above him. It was probably somewhere around three in the morning, still dark, too late for anyone to be awake after partying but too early for anyone to be getting up for work or school or practice.

Viktor closed his eyes, and immediately flinched when another vision from his dream floated in front of his closed eyelids, too violent and gory to stomach.Viktor sat up again against the headboard of his bed and sighed, rubbing at his eyes.He had only gotten about four hours of sleep so far, it seemed.If he had to skate like this in competition, he was going to be a mess.He might not even win… 

Yuri came out of the bathroom and flicked the light off, and then back on.“What are you still doing up, old man?” he snapped.

Viktor covered his eyes, more to hide how much of a mess he was than anything else, and said irritably, “Can you turn that off?”

Yuri grumbled but did as he was bid, turning the bathroom light off and closing the door.“What are you still doing up?” he repeated, this time in a whisper.

Viktor bit his tongue before whispering back, “It takes me more than a minute to fall asleep, Yura.” For some reason it seemed odd to speak in a regular voice in the still darkness of the very early morning, an opinion Yuri clearly shared when he whispered back several expletives before thumping back into his own bed and wrestling with the covers for a moment before going still.

Viktor waited, staring out into the blackness of the room with dead eyes, until Yuri’s breathing evened out and his restless shifting had stopped, and then pulled out his phone.He mindlessly navigated to Instagram, swiping through the pictures his friends had posted hours before.Chris had apparently gone out drinking with a few other skaters, Phichit included, Georgi and Mila had taken a grumpy Yuri sight seeing to get him out of Yakov’s hair for the day, and… Yuki had even posted a tasteful picture of his and Viktor’s date, the two of them squished together on a bench and grinning at the camera.Viktor smiled slightly, and then liked the photo before adding a comment with lots of exclamation points and smiles and hearts that he couldn’t quite feel with the empty cavity in his chest.

He spent close to an hour dealing with social media notifications and emails and scrolling through photos on Instagram and looking at pictures of his beloved Makkachin on his camera roll.By that time his eyelids were starting to droop and his yawns came more frequently despite the lingering horror from his nightmares, and the next thing he knew he was being shaken awake by an angry, scowling Yuri and sunlight was leaking through the open blinds.

“Wake up, idiot,” Yuri snapped, letting go of Viktor’s shoulder once Viktor’s eyes opened.

Viktor sighed quietly and rubbed at his face, trying to get his bearings.“What time is it?” he mumbled, and Yuri smacked him on the shoulder.

“Almost nine,” he replied irritably.“Yakov said to let you sleep in, but your dumb boyfriend is freaking out or whatever.He kept bugging me at breakfast.”

Viktor smiled slightly at that.“Did he?”

Yuri wrinkled his nose.“You’re not even denying that you’re his boyfriend,” he said accusingly.

Viktor gave him a weak, bashful smile.“That’s because we’re dating?” he replied, as if there was any question.

Yuri just snorted.“Of course you are.”He kicked the edge of Viktor’s bed.“Now get up already, would you?” he said.“Yakov wants you to practice or whatever for a bit before the competition.” Yuri’s lip curled as he studied Viktor more carefully.“And maybe do something about your face, you look half dead.”

Viktor just huffed a sigh, deciding not to comment on that not-so-helpful observation.After a long moment Yuri rolled his eyes, turning away.“Get up whenever you want, see if I care,” he grumbled.“I can tell Yakov I tried.”He slumped across the room and collapsed on his own bed, scrabbling for his phone. 

Viktor heaved another sigh before getting out of bed and running both hands through his greasy hair, trying not to sway where he stood.Despite what was technically a decent amount of hours of sleep, he still felt more than a little dead on his feet, his thought fuzzy and sluggish.

Viktor stumbled into the bathroom, only just thinking to bring a change of clothes with him, and turned on the shower before getting undressed.The pounding water on his back, the lukewarm rivulets that ran down his face like tears and puddled at his feet, did little to properly wake him up, and by the time Viktor was clean and the shower had been turned off he didn’t feel like any less of a fake human being, a hollow and useless husk of a person. 

Viktor got dressed, brushed his teeth and hair, and covered up the bruises beneath his eyes before leaving the hotel room, ignoring Yuri’s grunt.He was only mildly surprised to find Yuki waiting outside the room. 

His boyfriend was leaning against the wall, head tilted back and neck exposed, hands stuffed in the pockets of Viktor’s jacket, and even in his exhausted state Viktor couldn’t help but admire the man who actually wanted to date him.Yuki looked up as soon as the hotel room door opened, and his easy smile quickly melted into a concerned frown.

“Viktor, what’s the matter?” he asked, pushing away from the wall to cup Viktor’s gave between his warm palms.“Why do you look so...”

“So dead?” Viktor offered with a weak laugh, ignoring the way his stomach trembled sickeningly when he spoke those words.

Yuki pursed his lips, and then gave Viktor a kiss on the lips. “Viktor, did you sleep at all last night?” he said worriedly.

Viktor smiled slightly, warmed by his concern.“I did, some,” he said.“Don’t worry about me, Yuki, I’ll be just fine.”

Yuki tilted his face slightly, up to face the light.“I can see the shadows under your eyes under that concealer,” he said with a vaguely scolding tone.

Viktor laughed quietly, and turned his head to brush his lips over Yuki’s palm.“I’ll be fine by the time the competition happens,” he promised, and then leaned in to kiss Yuki again. After the dream he had had, after the horror and suffering and death he had seen in his mind’s eye, he was all the more eager to hang on to Yuki as long as he could.

They stood in the hallway and kissed for what felt like a moment and a year, and Viktor lost himself in the feeling of Yuki’s warm lips against his, of Yuki’s hands cupping his face and his fingertips gently brushing his hairline.They finally broke apart when Viktor’s stomach growled, and Yuki patted Viktor’s abdomen with a smile.

“I guess we should get some good food into you,” he said.

Viktor nodded sheepishly.“It’s been a long time since I’ve slept in this late,” he admitted.

Yuki gave him one last quick kiss on the lips.“I think they’re still serving breakfast to the hotel guests downstairs,” he said.

Once the two were downstairs, Viktor made quick work of gathering enough food for his breakfast before finding a private table for him and Yuki to share. Yuki didn’t speak at Viktor scarfed down his breakfast, not until Viktor was sipping at and almost burning his tongue on his large cup of coffee.

“Do you always sleep this badly before competitions?” Yuki asked, and Viktor almost choked on his drink.

“I, um...” he stammered.

Yuki blinked innocently up at him.“It had just never occurred to me that someone as good as you might get nervous before competitions,” he said cautiously, as if afraid of offending Viktor.

As guilty as it made him feel, Viktor quickly latched on to the lie.“Of course I get nervous,” Viktor said.“Everyone does.It’s not always this nerve wracking, I guess last night was just... special?”He reached across the table and laced his fingers together with Yuki’s.“Thank you for your concern, Yuki, it means a lot how much you care.”

Yuki frowned slightly.“Of course I care,” he said.“I’m your boyfriend.”

Viktor lifted Yuki’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.“Still.Thank you.”

Yuki smiled slowly back, and then his eyes darted over Viktor’s shoulder before widening.“Ah, Viktor, we need to get to practice,” he said.Viktor waited one more moment, savoring the sight of his boyfriend across from him in his soft sweater and Viktor’s jacket, glasses sliding down his nose and expression open and honest, before getting to his feet.

Practice was a blur merged together into movement after meaningless movement by Viktor’s exhaustion, and by the end of it he could hardly think straight for all of his exhaustion.After lunch and more warm ups and a lecture from Yakov that he could barely remember, Viktor found himself sitting against the wall in one of the designated warm up areas.For an ice rink the room was surprisingly warm, and Viktor found that his eyelids were heavy and his thoughts were drifting.Surely it couldn’t hurt to close his eyes, just for a few minutes.

“Viktor?Viktor?”Viktor opened his eyes to see Yuki leaning down in front of him, a small worried frown on his lips.Viktor wanted to kiss him. 

“Are you alright?” Yuki asked.

Viktor stifled a yawn against the back of his hand.“Of course.Why wouldn’t I be?I was just resting my eyes.”

“You’ve been asleep for more than an hour,” Yuki said quietly.“No one had the heart to wake you up.You’re lucky the press isn’t allowed in here, or they would be having a field day.”

“An hour?” Viktor repeated dumbly.He had been asleep an hour?At least… at least he hadn’t dreamed this time. 

Yuki nodded in confirmation.“Your group is on soon,” he said.“Are you awake?Do you need someone to get you something to drink?I don’t know if there’s any way to get coffee, but that might help, or-“

Viktor smiled, and then finally gave in to his first waking instinct and stopped Yuki’s rambling with a quick kiss.“I’m fine,” he said, standing and shaking his head in an attempt to fight off the drowsiness.Hopefully his stage makeup hadn’t been ruined by falling asleep against the wall.To o bad he didn’t have a mirror.

“You look fine,” Yuki said, as if reading his mind.He blushed a little.“ _More_ than fine.”

Viktor kisses him, rather liking the small streak of his lipstick left on the corner of Yuki’s mouth.“I’m sorry I missed your performance,” he said.

Yuki waved a hand, unconcerned, the tips of his ears still a little pink.“Don’t worry about it,” he said.“Now go, I don’t want you to be late.”

Viktor cupped one hand around the back of Yuki’s neck and gave him a kiss that left the both of them breathless, and by the time he pulled away he was smirking and Yuki was bright red.“For good luck,” Viktor explained, and then sauntered away, making sure to keep an extra swing to his hips.Since he had taken a nap instead of completely warming up, it couldn’t hurt to do as much as possible to get into the mood of _On Love: Eros_ a little bit early.

Yakov was waiting just outside the door of the warm up room, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.“About time you showed up,” he said without any bite to his voice.Viktor brushed his bangs out of his eyes, but didn’t deign to reply.

Yakov’s frown deepened.“Are you able to skate?” he asked.

Viktor nodded, not a concern in his mind.He felt more well rested than he had an hour ago, odd sleep spot be damned.“I’ll be fine,” he promised.

Yakov stared out at the ice, where the skater Viktor assumed was just before him, Otabek Altin, was finishing his routine.He was disappointed to have missed everyone else’s performance.It might prove to be a serious oversight.

“Then go skate,” Yakov ordered softly, as soon as Altin took his bows and left the stage.

Viktor didn’t even hesitate before removing his skate guards and stepping onto the ice.

***

“So,” Markov said into the phone, leaning against the wall of his office to look out the window.Outside the cold Russian winter buried Moscow in snow, but inside was warm and sheltered, even a little stuffy.Markov traced a finger through the condensation collecting on his window, and then said in a soft voice, “He’s ahead after the short programs of the Grand Prix Finals.”

The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat, but didn’t say anything.

Markov’s jaw clenched, and he slammed his fist into the wall.“You said that the threatening letters would work, Mr.-”

“Don’t say my name!” the other man yelled, the panic clear in his voice.When he spoke again, it was in the barest whisper.“You never know who could be listening.”

Markov hummed slightly under his breath, and then said in a slow, calm voice, “You promised me that you could make the threatening letters work.You said he’d retire before the Grand Prix Finals.And yet here we are… I’m out another one million rubles for each skate he ends up in first, and Nikiforov will be back in St. Petersburg with another gold medal to add to his collection by tomorrow.You were _there_.Why didn’t you do anything?You could have ended his chances of winning at the short program.”

“I didn’t- I mean,” the man on the phone stammered, and Markov snorted.

“I know, you don’t want to _hurt_ him," he sneered."That's going to change if you don't do what you're supposed to.Or have you forgotten how much you owe me?"

The man on the end of the phone swallowed audibly."I haven't forgotten," he said hoarsely."And I've seen your man around the city, I-"

"He's watching," Markov said quietly, sure that the menace was clear in his voice."I thought I had made it absolutely clear to you how serious I am about this, how much is at stake."  He stared up at the ceiling, and then came to a decision.  "No more threatening letters.It doesn't work.Change your tactics, or you and your loved ones will die along with Nikiforov by the end of the figure skating season."

With that Markov hung up the phone, setting it down with a thump before turning back to the window.Technically he had promised the other man until the World Championships to convince Nikiforov to quit, but every ruble Markov lost was like a painful, physical blow.He couldn’t keep losing like this, not if he wanted to keep his power and social status.

And if some petty figure skaters had to die to achieve that, Markov wouldn’t even flinch.

Markov took the few steps to get to his desk, and then stared down at the papers covering its surface.Photos, from magazines and cheap, trashy tabloids littered the desk, each with candid pictures of Nikiforov and that damned Interpol agent, Katsuki Yuuri, arm in arm or kissing or hugging or eating together. 

Markov’s lips twisted into a grimace, and he quickly piled up those particular scraps of information before turning to the agent file that he had had stolen from Interpol, the agent file about Katsuki Yuuri.The Japanese man was clearly rather good at his job, but definitely had some weaknesses that Markov and his lackeys would be able to exploit.

Markov closed the file over Katsuki’s mug shot and put the folder away into a safe drawer, locking it.He would have to burn the file once he had memorized the information.Maybe he could pretend he was burning Katsuki’s dead, rotting corpse as well. If only it would be that easy to get the Interpol agent out of the way, in order to get a clear shot at Nikiforov.

His phone rang again, rattling slightly against the wooden surface of the desk.Markov stifled a sigh and picked the device up, answering it with a grunt.

“We’ve found out the name and location of the other agent, sir,” Sasha Petrovich said urgently.“Hisashi Morooka.”

Markov didn’t even hesitate.“I want him gone,” he replied levelly.

“Understood,” Petrovich said, and Markov heard the click of a gun’s safety before the phone was hung up.

Markov smiled slightly, slipping the phone into his pocket, mood greatly improved.That made things just a little bit easier.If only the rest of Interpol was that easy to deal with.

Markov left his office, closing the door behind him, but not before snuffing out the light in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DETAILS ABOUT VIOLENCE: Viktor dreams about the deaths of everyone he loves, and the state in which he finds their bodies, as a direct result of him not listening to the threatening letters and retiring from figure skating. The descriptions of the dream include details about death and gore in the context of several of the people closest to him. Obviously this dream does not come to pass (no mcd!) but it may be upsetting to some, hence the warning. For skipping purposes the excerpt starts at the beginning of the second section of text and ends with "Viktor stumbled out of bed..." if you want to Ctrl+F.
> 
> убивать = kill (correct me if I'm wrong)
> 
> Also: 61k after they met and 50k after they first kissed Viktor and Yuuri are FINALLY dating
> 
> So I know this chapter was a bit late and to be honest I have no idea exactly when the next one is going to be. The first round of my exams are between now and then so I'm focusing more on studying than on writing. I'm aiming for May 22nd, but depending on how much time I have it may be a little later than that. Either way, until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	16. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which dreams die and dreams are born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, this chapter got away from me JUST a bit ~~and by a bit I mean more than 3k~~. Anyway, this time I've proofread my chapter notes so that they actually reflect what happens in the chapter (sorry about last time, whoops) and, um...
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Notes about violence and death in the end notes, _**please**_ read if violence is an issue (and keep in mind that the 'Graphic Depictions of Violence' tag that has been here from the beginning IS starting to come into play).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Morooka was pinned down, with nowhere to go.He had been so _close_ , so _goddamn close_ , to finally exposing Markov’s inside man, to gathering enough proof to deliver to Interpol and bring him down.Just as Minako had ordered, he had used his false connections and growing influence in the press to quietly investigate who could possibly have connections to Sergey Markov, and in extension the Russian underworld, and he had managed to dig up quite a bit. 

He knew who it was, without a shadow of a doubt, but he needed to be able to prove it for Interpol to make an arrest.They needed to move fast… Viktor was in far more danger than Interpol had imagined, the person at fault for the threats was close, so close, in Viktor’s confidences, someone Interpol had looked into but hadn’t been able to find enough… And he was close enough, in Barcelona, even, that he could strike out at Viktor at any moment, perhaps even before the free program later that night. 

If only Morooka had just had another hour, maybe two, and he would have had enough to bring to Interpol in order to save Viktor before Markov’s man made his move. But in his haste, he hadn’t been careful enough.In his hurry to finally bring down the threat and successfully finish the job, he had forgotten to cover his tracks well enough.And _they_ had found him.

Morooka held his breath, clutching his gun in his sweaty hands, as he dared to look around the corner of the alleyway he was hiding in.Just as he had thought, the three men who had been following him were slowly making their way down the street, eyes sharp and each with a hand in his coat.They had followed him from St. Petersburg to Barcelona, slowly gaining on him, never shaken despite how much Morooka tried.

Morooka took a deep gulping breath and ducked back behind the corner, mind racing.He needed to find a way to contact Minako, or if possible contact Katsuki.He needed to warn one or the both of them what was coming, tell them what he had found, warn them to keep Viktor safe from the threat right by his side.All he had to do was get enough time to phone one of them, and his job would be done.But it would be a challenge even to find a moment to call, with the three men on his tail.

Morooka closed his eyes and sharpened his hearing, listening for the footsteps in unison that he knew were coming.And then there was a cold pressure on his temple, and an accented voice in his ear.“Don’t move,” one of the men whispered.“Drop the gun.”

Morooka swallowed hard, his mouth dry, a lump in his throat and his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and opened his eyes.One of the men was by his side, gun to his forehead, and the other two both had their backs facing him, keeping watch from both sides with their hands in their coats.

Before the man with his gun to Morooka’s head could react, Morooka stamped on his instep and elbowed him in the ribs.The gun clattered to the concrete and Morooka brought an elbow down on the top of his skull before turning and firing, shooting one of the other men in the shoulder.The man fell with a cry, clutching at his bloody arm, and then there was a pressure at Morooka’s back and a hand on his throat.

“You don’t need to be alive,” the third man murmured in Russian, pressing his gun further into the small of Morooka’s back.Morooka’s breath caught, bile rising in his throat.“Drop the gun,” the man said in accented English.Morooka’s stiff fingers uncurled, and the gun in his hands rattled when it his the ground.

“Raise your hands so I can see them,” the man ordered, his gun digging into Morooka’s back hard enough to likely leave a mark.Morooka slowly raised his hands.In seven years working for Interpol, he had never felt so closely the absolute certainty of death.It terrified him, but it also gave him nothing to lose.

As quickly as he could he turned with fists clenched, swinging at the other man.The gun was fired, a bullet slamming into Morooka’s shoulder and knocking him back slightly, but his fist connected with the other man’s jaw and knocked his head back with a crack.Morooka winced, shaking out his fist and trying to ignore the awful pain in his shoulder, and kicked the other man in the crotch before he could react.The other man doubled over with a pained groan, his forehead smacking into Morooka’s knee before he tumbled to the ground.

Breathless and wheezing with pain, Morooka scooped up his gun and stuffed it inside his jacket before pressing the palm of his opposite hand to his bleeding shoulder.Without looking back he ran, bolting down the street with little regard for the tourists and locals he pushed out of the way.At this rate, he wasn’t going to have the time to call for help.He had left three incapacitated men behind him, yes, but none were so injured that they couldn’t chase after him if they needed to, twice as angry as before.

But if his sense of direction was correct, he was about a ten minute walk from the hotel where Katsuki was staying.If he could get to the hotel, find a way to hide and then to contact Katsuki, he could convey his warning before it was too late for Viktor.

Morooka slowed to a walk, his breath rasping in the back of his throat, and for the first time paid full attention to his wound.Blood leaked from between his fingers despite the pressure he was putting on the place where he had been shot, the pain making him breathless.He had been shot at before in his time working for Interpol, but this was the first time a bullet had connected rather than nicking him or going wide.It didn’t seem like it had lodged in his shoulder, but the pain throbbed, almost like it was getting bigger, making him lightheaded and sick to his stomach.

Morooka stumbled towards the hotel, earning plenty of strange looks, making sure to glance over his shoulder every few steps to make sure no one was following him.A few times he thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar coat, a familiar face, and it only spurred him on to move faster.While he hurried, moving somewhere between a walk and a run, he took his hand off his shoulder for a moment to see if he still had his phone.After a moment his fingers hit the cold screen of his phone and he pulled it out as he turned the corner.It took him a few tries to dial, fingers slippery with blood, but Katsuki picked up on the second ring.

“Who is this?” the other agent asked, sounding slightly breathless.

“Katsuki-san,” Morooka gasped, voice cracking with pain as an odd step pulled his shoulder.“It’s Morooka Hisashi.”

“Morooka-san?” Katsuki said in surprise, and then slipped into Japanese.“What’s the matter?You sound hurt.”

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” Morooka promised, trying to hide a wince as his shoulder throbbed and the bloodstain on the arm of his coat continued to expand.“I’ve been shot, but it’s fine.”

Katsuki’s voice hardened, and he said, businesslike, “What do I need to know?”

“I know who Markov’s inside man is,” Morooka whispered, instinctively lowering his voice as he glanced over his shoulder again.He desperately searched the crowds of people in Barcelona’s streets, searching for any threats, and caught sight of a disruption at the end of the block.Not willing to risk it, Morooka broke out into a stumbling run again.

“Who is it?” Katsuki said urgently in his ear.“Morooka-san, who is it?”

Mind blurry with pain and panic, Morooka babbled, “You need to make sure Nikiforov-san is safe, get him away from anyone else.He’s close, he’s so much closer than we realized, he could strike at any time-”

“Morooka-san!” Yuuri snapped, raising his voice a little.“Who?”

Morooka swallowed.“I don’t know if this line is secure, they’ve been watching me,” he wheezed, turning the corner.“They found out who I am, they’re after me-”Looking ahead, he caught sight of Katsuki’s hotel.“I’m almost at your hotel, I’ll come and find you,” he said.“Just make sure Nikiforov-san is safe.”

“I’m with him, we’re both at the hotel,” Katsuki started uncertainly.“I can meet you in the lobby?”

“I’ll come find you,” Morooka repeated, dashing up to the hotel and shoving the door open with his shoulder, regardless of the pain.“Shouldn’t meet in public, I don’t want them to find you too-”

“We’re on the 22nd floor,” Katsuki barked, panic leaking into his voice.“The third room on the left of the elevator.”

“I’ll see you in a moment,” Morooka vowed, walking briskly across the lobby.He ignored the questions from the receptionists at the desk, jabbing the button for the first elevator he came to and waiting impatiently.Across the lobby the doors slammed open just as the elevator arrived, two of the three men who had been chasing him racing in.Morooka kept his head down, hoping that he was lost in the relatively crowded lobby, and ducked into the elevator before repeatedly pressing the button to get the doors to close.He breathed a sigh of relief once the elevator had closed safely, and slowly became aware of a voice in his ear.

“-ooka-san?Morooka?” Katsuki was saying, sounding more than a little panicked.

“I’m here,” Morooka said, wincing when his shoulder twinged again.“I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

The elevator slowed, and Morooka’s eyes jumped to the panel above the door, lights lit up to represent what floor he was on.The elevator was stopping several floors below the one Katsuki was waiting on.Morooka grimaced and turned so that his bloody shoulder was facing the wall, hopefully not as noticeable to whatever hapless tourist would be joining him in the elevator.

The doors slid open and Morooka gasped involuntarily at the man standing on the other side, a gun held with unsteady hands and pointed straight between Morooka’s eyes.

“Morooka-san, what’s the matter?” Katsuki asked in his ear, again and again, but Morooka couldn’t get enough breath into his lungs to answer.He was face to face with Markov’s inside man, the man who had been helping threaten Viktor Nikiforov for months, the man who had had a hand in the beating of Yuri Plisetsky and the assault on Yakov Feltsman.

“It really _is_ you,” Morooka managed to whisper, his eyes as wide as saucers.“I was right.”

The man stared at him, eyes filling with tears and hands trembling, and then pulled the trigger.Markov’s inside man walked away as the elevator doors slid closed again, carrying Morooka’s body, slumped against the wall, up to the top floor.

 ***

Yuuri had to admit that he was more than a little bit worried about Viktor.And between the threatening letter left _in Viktor’s room_ that he had seen and how exhausted his boyfriend was the next day, he believed he was justified in that worry.When Yuuri met up with Viktor the day of the free skate, two days after the short program, his boyfriend still looked exhausted despite the fact that he _claimed_ he had slept well.Yuuri had met Viktor in his hotel room so they could go sightseeing for a few hours after practice, but had put his foot down when he had seen the dark circles under his eyes that Viktor hadn’t managed to hide.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out, Yuki?” Viktor asked worriedly even as Yuuri insistently tucked him back into bed.

“I’m sure,” Yuuri said firmly.“Viktor, you look exhausted.Please, take a nap, or you won’t be able to skate your best tonight.”

Viktor sighed quietly, but let Yuuri coddle him.“I don’t think I’ll be able to skate my best regardless,” he mumbled in Russian, and then looked up at Yuuri with wide blue eyes.“Will you stay with me, Yuki?” he asked, switching back to English.

Yuuri smiled.“If you want me to,” he replied.

Viktor gave him a smile, and patted the narrow bed beside himself.“Come lie down with me,” he offered.Yuuri blushed a little, but kicked off his shoes before carefully lying down next to Viktor.

Viktor immediately turned to face Yuuri and snuggled closer to him, wrapping his arms around Yuuri’s waist.“This is nice,” he said softly, a smile on his lips.

Yuuri couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing him.“It is,” he agreed.

Viktor pulled Yuuri a little closer and then pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.“I don’t feel like sleeping, Yuki,” he said.

Yuuri smiled indulgently.“Just try?” he asked, and brought one hand up to cup Viktor’s face.“You look terrible,” he said worriedly.

Viktor made a face.“Oh, I can’t be that bad,” he complained.“I did put on some makeup before practice.”

Yuuri sighed, gently stroking the soft skin underneath Viktor’s left eye.Sure enough, a little bit of concealer came off on the pad of his finger, and he frowned disapprovingly at the bruised color underneath.“It looks like you didn’t sleep at all,” he scolded.

Viktor shrugged, grinning sheepishly.“It’s fine.I slept, I promise.”

Yuuri squinted at him.Every ounce of training he had received from Interpol about body language told him that Viktor was lying through his teeth, but Yuuri couldn’t exactly call him on it without blowing his own cover.“Just try,” he requested again, and Viktor nodded reluctantly.

“As long as you stay here in my arms,” he whispered, nuzzling against Yuuri’s neck before finding a comfortable position with his head tucked under Yuuri’s chin.

“Of course,” Yuuri whispered, sliding his arms around Viktor’s body and holding him close.Viktor closed his eyes and snuggled against him before his body relaxed slightly.

Yuuri fumbled with Viktor’s phone on the table by the bed for a moment before successfully setting an alarm for an hour later, and then closed his eyes as well.He couldn’t really sleep, not with a job to do and a boyfriend to protect, but it couldn’t hurt to close his eyes, just for a little bit…

Yuuri was in the nebulous space between sleep and awareness when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket, jolting him awake.Startled, heard pounding, Yuuri quickly answered before the buzzing woke Viktor and said quietly, “Who is this?”

“Katsuki-san,” the voice on the other end gasped, sounding pained and desperate.“It’s Morooka Hisashi.”

Yuuri blinked, sitting up.At some point while Yuuri had been dozing Viktor had wrapped his arms and legs around him like a clingy, affectionate barnacle, and Yuuri carefully extricated himself before sitting on the end of the bed.“Morooka-san?” Yuuri said cautiously, careful to keep his voice low.He would leave Viktor’s room if necessary, if Morooka needed to have a long conversation, but he didn’t want to leave Viktor alone if he didn’t have to.“What’s the matter?” Yuuri asked, listening to the little wheezes he could hear over the phone.“You sound hurt.”

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” Morooka insisted.“I’ve been shot, but it’s fine.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he sat up straight.Shot?As far as he knew, Morooka was supposed to be keeping a low profile and trying to find out who Viktor’s threatener was.He wasn’t supposed to be in any sort of position where people would want to shoot at him.“What do I need to know?” Yuuri asked, getting straight to the point.If Morooka was hurt and in danger, and somewhere nearby, Yuuri would need to know how to help him.

“I know who Markov’s inside man is,” Morooka murmured, his voice cracking over the phone.He gasped quietly, and Yuuri thought he could hear running footsteps in the background of the call.

“Who is it?” Yuuri asked, struck almost dumb.Morooka knew who was threatening Viktor?If he was right, the case could be wrapped up that day, and Viktor would be safe for the free program that night. “Morooka-san, who is it?” Yuuri repeated when the other man didn’t say anything.

“You need to make sure Nikiforov-san is safe,” Morooka said urgently, sounding on the edge of panic.“Get him away from anyone else!He’s close, he’s so much closer than we realized, he could strike at any time-”

Realizing that Morooka was very clearly on the edge of a panic attack, Yuuri interrupted sharply, “Morooka-san!” He took a deep, silent breath to calm himself, and then pressed, “Who?”

Morooka gulped audibly.“I don’t know if this line is secure, they’ve been watching me,” he said in a shaky voice.“They found out who I am, they’re after me.I’m almost at your hotel, I’ll come and find you.”There was a grunt of pain, and then Morooka added urgently, “Just make sure Nikiforov-san is safe.”

Yuuri glanced over his shoulder.Viktor had curled around one of his pillows in Yuuri’s absence, his face open and relaxed, silver hair draped over one eye.He looked younger, asleep.“I’m with him,” Yuuri said hoarsely.“We’re both at the hotel.”He got to his feet, already looking for his shoes, looking for paper and a pen to write Viktor a note.“I can meet you in the lobby?”

“I’ll come find you,” Morooka said immediately.There came another gasp of pain, almost an instinctive, animalistic whine, and then Morooka added, “Shouldn’t meet in public, I don’t want them to find you too-”

Fear flashed through Yuuri’s chest at the thought of the people who had shot Morooka coming after Viktor, running into the room with guns blazing and hurting him, killing him-“We’re on the 22nd floor,” Yuuri snapped.“The third room on the left of the elevator.”

“I’ll see you in a moment,” Morooka said firmly.Yuuri could distantly hear shoes clicking on a tile floor, and felt around for a moment before pulling on his own shoes.While Morooka might not want to meet him in “public,” it would probably be better not to lead him _exactly_ to Viktor’s room, just in case he really was being followed.

Yuuri tied his shoes one-handed, listening to Morooka’s quick, pained breaths in his ear.There was a small gasp, ad Yuuri said urgently, “Morooka-san?”There was no answer, and Yuuri repeated, “Morooka-san? Morooka?”

“I’m here,” Morooka said abruptly, his voice quieter.A lot of the background noise had cut out, and it sounded more like he was in a smaller space.“I’ll be there in less than a minute,” Morooka promised.There was a low ding in the background, and then Morooka’s breath caught audibly before he gasped, sounding terrified.

“Morooka-san, what’s the matter?” Yuuri asked, jumping to his feet.His instincts suddenly told him that something was very, very wrong.

“It really _is_ you,” Morooka said quietly, and Yuuri got the sense that he wasn’t the one being spoken to.“I was right,” Morooka added, something almost like triumph mixing with the terror in his voice, and then there was the unmistakable sound of a silenced gun going off.

“Morooka-san?” Yuuri whispered, even though he knew he wouldn’t get an answer.There was a thump, and then the phone fell.Yuuri distantly heard the slide of the elevator doors closing again.

“Oh, god,” Yuuri whispered, closing his eyes and listening hard.He couldn’t hear anything on the other end, a stark contrast from Morooka’s labored breathing before he had been shot for a second time.The other man was either severely injured or dead, and Yuuri was just standing there.

Dread coursing through his veins, Yuuri hung up the phone and found a pad of paper and a pen on the desk and scribbled a mostly nonsensical note to Viktor before leaving the paper next to Viktor’s phone.Cursing himself for not thinking ahead and bringing some sort of weapon for protection, Yuuri took up a post next to Viktor’s door, and dialed Minako before peering through the peephole.There was no one in the hallway, and Morooka’s elevator hadn’t arrived yet.

Yuuri glanced over his shoulder again, listening to the phone ring in his ear.He should probably wake Viktor up, bring him with him in case the whole thing was a trap, but if possible he didn’t want Viktor to see a dead body.

“Yuuri?” Minako said, finally picking up.

“Thank god,” Yuuri gasped, giving Viktor one last look.The Russian man was still asleep, but now his brow was furrowed and his grip on the pillow in his arms a little less easy.

“What’s the matter, Yuuri?” Minako said, businesslike, and Yuuri quietly left the hotel room, making sure to completely close the door.

“I just got a call from Morooka Hisashi,” Yuuri said quietly, creeping towards the elevator with every nerve afire.“He said he knew who Markov’s inside man is, and then I heard someone shoot at him.”

Minako was silent for a long moment, long enough for Yuuri to reach the elevators.The numbers on the panel above the door clicked inexorably closer to 22 as Minako said, “He didn’t happen to tell you who he suspected, did he?”

Yuuri shook his head, even though he knew his boss couldn’t see him.“He didn’t say,” he confirmed.“He sounded scared, said he had already been shot… He said he didn’t want to tell me over an unsecured line, that he was afraid of leading whoever was after him right to me.”The elevator dinged, reaching Yuuri’s floor.There was a moment of breathless anticipation and then the doors slid open to reveal Morooka slumped against the back wall, chin touching his chest.

“I’ll call you back in a moment,” Yuuri said quickly, hanging up before Minako could protest, and then stuffed the phone in his back pocket before rushing into the elevator.Morooka didn’t move when Yuuri knelt by his side, and sure enough, when Yuuri felt for a pulse at both his wrist and his neck he found nothing.

The elevator doors closed again as Yuuri very carefully lifted Morooka’s chin, stomach lurching when he saw the bullet hole between Morooka’s eyes.There was no way the other agent could have survived a wound like that.

Yuuri swallowed hard, and punched the button for the floor he was staying on before turning his attention back to Morooka.Yuuri blinked back his tears and closed the other man’s eyes with trembling fingers before tucking his cell phone back in his pocket, careful of the bloodstains on the shoulder of his green jacket.That done, Yuuri dug out his own phone and quickly texted Minako that Morooka was dead and he would call in a few minutes.

The elevator dinged at Yuuri’s floor and the door slid open.Hitting the button to keep the doors open, Yuuri got one arm under Morooka’s unbloody side and heaved him up, grunting under his weight.The other agent was lean and skinny, but he was also significantly taller than Yuuri and a little bit unwieldy.

Yuuri stumbled out of the elevator and down the hall to his own hotel room, coming to a stop in front of it to fumble for his room key before letting himself in.Yuuri and Phichit were sharing a room, but Yuuri knew Phichit was out and wouldn’t be back for a while.Hopefully Interpol would be able to take care of Morooka’s body before he returned.

Yuuri kicked the door shut behind him and carefully laid Morooka's body on the floor before sitting down beside him and pulling out his phone.Minako picked up before the first ring had even finished.

“Where are you, Yuuri?” she asked.“Are you with Viktor?”

“Not at the moment,” Yuuri replied.“Minako, I have Morooka’s body in my hotel room.”

“Alright,” Minako said, her voice tight.“I’ll have a team come and collect him so we can perform an autopsy.Yuuri, you need to be with Viktor.There’s a gunman somewhere in the hotel with enough skill to take out one of our agents, and who could very well just decide to go after Viktor as well.”

“I understand,” Yuuri replied, getting to his feet.“Please make sure someone comes for Morooka quickly, so Phichit doesn’t come back to a dead body on his hotel room floor.”

“They’re already on their way,” Minako said.“Get back to Viktor as quickly as you can.”

“Got it,” Yuuri confirmed, moving quickly across the room to grab his own gun and holster, very quickly putting it on under his jacket.If things came down to it, he wanted to be able to protect Viktor at all costs.

Yuuri spared one last look for the poor dead man on his floor, and then left, hanging up the phone as he went.By the time he got back to Viktor’s floor he was a veritable ball of nerves, and didn’t waste any time in getting back to Viktor’s room as quickly as possible.He was dismayed to find that the door pushed open easily when he tried, but since Viktor was still in bed, snoring and cuddling his pillow, it seemed like Yuuri had just neglected to close the door as properly as he thought he had.

Yuuri silently slipped off his shoes and closed the door behind him with a soft click before padding to the bathroom.Once inside he closed the door behind him, and then stared at himself in the mirror.There was a shocked, haunted look in his eyes, a small smear of Morooka’s blood on his cheeks and plenty more on his palms and caked underneath his fingernails.

Numbly, Yuuri turned on the tap and ran water over his hands, watching the red water swirl around the drain of the sink before disappearing.The shock of finding a dead man, a man who had been killed because of _his_ boyfriend, was finally setting in.Despite having seen death before, despite technically having been trained by Interpol to kill in the defense of the greater good, Yuuri could never quite shake the fear and guilt that plagued him.

Yuuri tried to steady his breathing as he carefully cleaned the blood from underneath his fingernails before turning the water off.He removed his glasses, setting them on the counter with a tiny clink, and then rubbed at the spots of blood on his face with a wet finger until they were gone.

Yuuri closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the cold glass of the mirror and just breathing for a moment before he straightened.As terrified and sad and guilty as he felt, he would have to be strong, for Viktor.Now, more than ever, he had to keep Viktor safe, and the only way he would be able to do that would be to stay resolute in the face of death and destruction.

Yuuri slipped his glasses back onto his face and raked his fingers through his hair before leaving the bathroom with his spine straight and his face set.The hard look in his eyes immediately faded when he saw Viktor, still on the bed and still clearly asleep, but now curled up in a ball with tears on his face.

“Viktor?” Yuuri whispered, rushing to his boyfriend’s side and sitting down on the bed.

“No, please,” Viktor whimpered in Russian, tears rolling down his cheeks.Yuuri reached out and gently carded his fingers through Viktor’s hair, smoothing his bangs away from his his face.“Please, not them,” Viktor begged, his eyelashes fluttering.“Anyone but them, please!”His eyes snapped open with a gasp, and after a moment fixed on Yuuri’s face before he burst into tears.

“Hey, hey,” Yuuri whispered, surprised, and lay down in bed next to Viktor.“Viktor, whatever upset you, it was just a dream.”

Viktor clung to Yuuri, trembling like a leaf, and then said in muffled Russian into Yuuri’s chest, “God, I wish this nightmare was something I could wake up from.”

Yuuri frowned worriedly and hugged Viktor back, rubbing one hand up and down his spine.“I’m here,” he murmured, not sure if it would help at all.“It’s OK, I’m here.”

Viktor took a deep, shuddering breath, and then turned away from Yuuri, sitting up. “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, and then laughed humorlessly.“You must think I’m pathetic, crying.”

Yuuri’s brow furrowed, and he sat up as well.“Never.”

Viktor looked up sharply at his tone, and new tears welled in his eyes.Yuuri swallowed.He hadn’t meant to make Viktor want to cry more.But when he tentatively opened his arms for a hug, Viktor leaned into him without hesitation, not crying, just breathing.That sat like that, just breathing, for a short while, before Viktor leaned back again.He shifted his position on the bed and leaned against Yuuri’s shoulder in a more comfortable position for the both of them.Yuuri reached out and took his hand, smiling slightly when Viktor laced their fingers together.

“Do you want to talk about it?”Yuuri whispered delicately.“If you think it might help, I’m always here to listen.”

Viktor swallowed.“I don’t want to burden you.”

Yuuri reached up and cupped his cheek, kissing him.“You are not a burden.”

“I keep dreaming that everyone I love is dead,” Viktor blurted, and squeezed his eyes shut.A tear leaked from between his eyelashes anyway, tracing a trail down his cheek and jaw before dripping into his lap.“And it’s all my fault.”

Yuuri blinked, and flashes of blood and violence flickered in that darkness before he focused on Viktor again.He knew very well what it was like to fear for the lives of the people he loved, but he had no way to reassure Viktor that everything would be OK.He had no way to reassure _himself_ that everything would be OK.“Why is that?” Yuuri prompted gently.“Viktor, love, nothing like that could be your fault.”

Viktor made a small sound in the back of his throat.“Yuki,” he murmured, and then stopped.Yuuri waited.Viktor looked down at their linked hands, and gently swept one thumb across the back of Yuuri’s hand before letting go of him.“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” he said in a small voice, lowering his eyes and hiding behind his bangs.“But you deserve the truth.And I wouldn’t blame you at all if you decided you’d rather not be my boyfriend once you know what’s going on.”

Yuuri had to bite back a bitter laugh at that irony, because he was sure that Viktor would be the one to break up with _him_ once he found out who Yuuri really was.

Viktor took a deep breath, absently worrying at a hangnail, and then whispered, “I’ve been receiving threats for several months now.That letter, that you found on my pillow the other night?That was one of the many threats that have been delivered practically to my door.They want me to retire, or else they’ll… they’ll hurt the people I love, they’ll kill my friends and family and… lovers.”He looked up at Yuuri, eyes wet.“So now you know… just being with me is putting you at risk.Maybe it would be best for you not to be with me at all.I’m so very sorry for being so selfish.”

Yuuri cupped Viktor’s face in his hands, forcing Viktor to look him in the eyes.“Viktor, listen to me,” he whispered seriously.“Please, just listen.”Viktor looked up slowly, tears clumping his eyelashes together.

Yuuri swallowed hard, the truth on the tip of his tongue, but what he said was, “You’re _not_ selfish.”Viktor blinked.“Just the fact that you’re telling me all this proves it,” Yuuri continued.“If you were really selfish, you would keep to yourself the danger you might be in. You wouldn’t be too worried about the people around you getting hurt.”Yuuri looked down, gathering his thoughts.

“But you might die,” Viktor whispered.“If you’re around me, you might die.”

Yuuri looked up at him again.There was no possible way to tell Viktor that _that_ was exactly his job.That, if things came down to it, Yuuri would die to save Viktor in a heartbeat.Yuuri smiled weakly.“You’re worth the risk,” he murmured, and pressed his lips to Viktor’s.“Besides,” he murmured when they parted.“If these people have really been threatening you for so long and haven’t gone through with any of it, I don’t think there’s much to be afraid of.”

Viktor chuckled, still sounding a little choked up.”That’s the thing,” he said.“I have been attacked, but other people got hurt for my sake.”He cleared his throat a little awkwardly.“I don’t know if it was directly connected to the threats, but my coach got hurt trying to protect me.”Yuuri pressed his lips together, heart sinking.Interpol, despite its suspicions, hadn’t been able to find a direct connection between the attack on Yakov Feltsman and the threats Viktor was receiving, but if Viktor knew something… Or maybe even _Morooka_ had known something…

Viktor took a shuddering breath, raking his fingers through his hair.“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” he whispered, reaching up to caress Yuuri’s cheek.“Yuki I… I really care about you.I don’t know if I could forgive myself if something happened to you because of the trouble I’ve managed to land myself in.That’s-”His voice broke, and it took him a second to regain his composure.“That’s what I’ve been dreaming about, after all.I just-”

Yuuri reached up and placed his hand over Viktor’s, still on his cheek, and then turned his head so he could kiss Viktor’s fingertips.“Viktor, I lo-I, um, I _really like_ you.You’re worth that risk, to me,” Yuuri promised, and knew that even if he hadn’t been assigned this job, even if he wasn’t an Interpol agent and instead just an ordinary skater, he would say the exact same thing.Viktor looked at him, hope and guilt shining in his eyes.

“Besides,” Yuuri said with a small laugh, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you alone in your time of need?”

Viktor suddenly tackled him in a hug, clinging to him and pressing kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw, his mouth.“Yuki, Yuki, thank you,” Viktor whispered brokenly.“I kind of hate you for putting yourself in danger for my sake, but at the same time… Thank you.For staying with me.”

Yuuri smiled up at him, trailing his fingers over one cheek before leaning up and kissing him sweetly.“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, and then blushed.

Viktor kissed him back, a smile on his lips, and then murmured.“I wish there was a way to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me.”

Yuuri smiled tenderly.“I don’t want any payment,” he said honestly.“You’re more than I ever could have asked for.”

Viktor hugged him close, burying his face in Yuuri’s hair and inhaling deeply.“I’m so glad you agreed to date me,” he whispered.“I’m lucky to have a boyfriend like you.”

Yuuri stroked his fingers through Viktor’s hair, fingernails gently scratching his scalp, and then murmured, “Those nightmares, the awful ones you’ve been having… Is that why you haven’t been sleeping well?Is that why you’ve looked so bad?”

Viktor made a vaguely affirmative murmuring sound, and Yuuri smiled fondly.“Viktor, did… did I help at all?” he whispered.“I don’t want you to hurt.”

“My Yuki, you helped so much,” Viktor murmured, his lips still pressed to the top of Yuuri’s head.Yuuri licked his lips nervously, and then suggested, “I, I could, um… If you think it would help, I could stay with you tonight?Or, um, you could come back to my room?To sleep?And if you get nightmares I could help you again?”

Viktor pulled back slightly, just enough to gaze down at Yuuri, the grin on his face a stark contrast to his still red-rimmed eyes.“Yuki,” he teased, his voice lowering.“Are you saying you want to sleep with me?”

Yuuri went red, even as a spark of interest burned low in his gut.“I, um…”

Viktor’s grin widened, and he kissed Yuuri.Yuuri suddenly became very aware that Viktor was basically lying on top of him, the lengths of their bodies pressed together.“I certainly wouldn’t be opposed,” Viktor murmured, his voice more of a low purr than anything else, and Yuuri yelped a little when Viktor’s hips gave a tiny roll.

“Viktor!” Yuuri gasped, his voice somewhere between a squeak and a laugh.“Um, not now?”

Viktor chuckled.“Of course not now, we have a competition later,” he said, and then that sly smile returned.“Perhaps later?”

Cheeks burning, Yuuri nodded slowly, and Viktor’s grin switched from sly to absolutely delighted.“Something to look forward to!” he gasped excitedly, and Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sure, something to look forward to,” he agreed.

***

Yuuri was, for obvious reasons, a ball of nerves by the time the men’s singles free programs started.Since finding Morooka earlier in the afternoon, he had been on edge. He felt the need to run, jump, hide, fight, do _anything_ to protect Viktor and feel a little less useless.Even with Viktor’s confession, with Viktor’s step towards trusting him completely, with the new stages they were reaching in their relationship, Yuuri couldn’t quell the nervous energy inside him.

Phichit must have picked up on some of that energy, because he pulled Yuuri aside when they were leaving the ice after their last warmup before the competition began.Phichit would be up first, just below Yuuri after the short program the day before, but he didn’t seem nearly as nervous as Yuuri had expected him to be.

“Yuki, are you alright?” Phichit murmured, his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder as they put on their skate guards and made their way to Celestino.“You seem… off.Do you need to sit down, or take a moment outside the rink?”

A flash of metal caught Yuuri’s eyes, and he quickly snapped his head around to see a skater carrying his skates, the silver blades flashing under the fluorescent lights of the rink.  Shit, he was seeing threats _everywhere_.

“Yuki?” Phichit repeated uncertainly, and Yuuri blinked before focusing his attention on his friend again. 

”Ah, sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, blushing.“I’m fine, I promise.Just a little nervous.”

Phichit raised an eyebrow.“A little?”

Yuuri laughed awkwardly, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair before remembering that it was completely slicked back with gel.“Yeah, maybe a little more than a little,” he admitted.“But there’s not much I can do about it.”

Phichit slung an arm around his shoulders.“What are you nervous about?” he asked with a smile.“Maybe I can help.”

Yuuri worried his lower lip between his teeth.In truth, he was far more worried about Viktor’s safety than the actual skating, but there was absolutely no way he could tell his friend that he was actually a secret agent working undercover for Interpol.Phichit could _never_ know that he was a spy.“I don’t know,” Yuuri finally mumbled.“I’m just nervous about messing up, I guess.I don’t want to disappoint everyone counting on me.”That, at least, was technically true.

Phichit gave him a small smile.“Do you know why I’m not nervous?” he said.

Yuuri looked up questioningly.“Why not?” he asked curiously.

Phichit shrugged, grinning ruefully.“Well, realistically, I know I’m not going to get on the podium,” he said.  "We’re competing against the likes of Viktor, Christophe Giacometti, JJ Leroy, and Otabek Altin.I’m not going to be able to medal, not at this point, so therefore I’ve decided I’m just going to do my best and have fun.No pressure.”

Yuuri’s lips twitched up at the corners.“I guess that’s a good way of looking at it,” he said.“It actually does help with the pressure, just a little.”

Phichit’s grin widened.“Good, that’s what I’m here for,” he said.“Well, that and skating.”Yuuri laughed, briefly leaning into his roommate’s half hug before Phichit let go.

They reached Celestino, and the Italian man clapped Phichit on the shoulder.“How are you feeling?” he asked, focusing his attention on Phichit for the time being.

Phichit smiled.“Pretty good, coach.”

Celestino nodded in satisfaction.“Do you need anything?” he asked.“Warmups, last minute stretches?”

Phichit shook his head, straightened his spine.“I’m ready,” he said resolutely, and then grinned brightly.“I’ve been looking forward to skating to this music forever, I’m definitely ready!”

Celestino chuckled.“You should be.Go ahead, it's almost your turn.”

Phichit gave Yuuri a quick hug, squeezing him tight, and then let go.“That’s for good luck,” he said seriously.“You’re right after me, so I might not get to hug you before you skate.”

Yuuri grinned, hugging his friend back.“You can do it, Phichit,” he replied happily.“Don’t break a leg.”

Phichit laughed at that, and then made his way to the ice.

“You’re fine here?” Celestino said in a low voice, pausing a moment.

Yuuri nodded.“Go ahead, Phichit needs you rink-side,” he replied.

Celestino lingered a moment more, cleared his throat, and then said in a low voice, “Your… advisor from the JSF was trying to call you during warmups.She wants you to call her back as soon as possible, but if it’s going to stress you out before the competition-”

“Thank you,” Yuuri said, nodding seriously.

Celestino flashed him a smile.“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said, and then followed Phichit rink-side, taking his other skater’s blade guards when he was offered.

Yuuri bit his lip, torn.He desperately wanted to watch his friend’s routine, to support Phichit as much as Phichit had cheerfully supported him, but if Minako had really called… It could be urgent.And, ultimately, his mission to protect Viktor was more important than anything.

Yuuri bent over and dug his phone out of his skate bag, staring down at the screen.  Sure enough, there was a missed call from an unsaved number, a number Yuuri recognized as one of Minako’s burner phones.

Yuuri looked up. Out on the ice Phichit was taking his place, arms raised and a wide smile on his face as the crowd around him roared in approval.Yuuri sighed quietly, and then dialed his boss.

Minako picked up on the third ring, the sound of a crowd evident in the background.“Yuuri?” she said quietly, just audible above whatever was around her.

Phichit’s music started playing from the speakers as Yuuri’s friend started his skate, and in the background from Minako’s end the same music echoed tinnily.So Minako was in the stadium somewhere, then.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Yuuri murmured, eyes fixed on his friend out on the ice.

“I’m surprised you're calling me in the middle of the competition,” Minako murmured.

Yuuri pressed his lips together.“Celestino told me you wanted me to call back as quickly as possible,” he replied a little testily.

Minako, clearing noticing and ignoring his tone, said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Yuuri, but I have information you should probably know.”

Yuuri’s mind froze at that, and he turned his full attention to the woman on the other end of the phone.“What is it?” he whispered, tearing his eyes away from his friend out on the ice to search for Viktor.After a long moment he found his boyfriend off to the side, watching the ice with an odd smile on his lips, one finger pressed to his cheek.Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief.

“I have the autopsy report from Morooka Hisashi,” Minako said curtly.“Shot in the arm, and then point blank in the head.We were able to track his activities up to a point, and managed to recover a little bit of the information he had found.”

“You know who’s sending the threats?” Yuuri gasped.

Minako made an annoyed huff on the other end of the phone.“No,” she grumbled.“He was apparently getting rather paranoid near the end of his life.He covered his tracks too well, erased any unnecessary data.But we do know that he uncovered that whoever if threatening Viktor will be at the stadium today.”

“They will?” Yuuri whispered, dread curling in his stomach.

“Yes,” Minako confirmed, her voice heavy with warning.“We don’t know who they are, or if they’ll act, but you need to keep an eye out.They might be undercover as well, as an ISU official or a reporter, or even another skater or coach as we first suspected.But you need to keep Viktor safe.”

“I know,” Yuuri said firmly.“I understand.”He would keep Viktor safe at all costs, that was what he had promised himself.That was his job.

Minako exhaled slowly.“Viktor will be most vulnerable when he’s out on the ice,” she said.“You won’t be close to him to protect him.We’ve cleared the area and surveillance is good so there _shouldn’t_ be any issues… but it would be a good idea to keep on guard anyway.We don’t know for sure if they want him hurt or dead, but he could very well die tonight if you aren’t paying attention.”

“I understand,” Yuuri repeated, refusing to let his voice tremble.His heart pounded in his throat, faster than the beat of Phichit’s music, as his eyes found Viktor again.

“I don’t want to put pressure on you,” Minako said slowly, her voice sounding distant, almost like it was under water.“But you need to understand the danger Viktor is in.”

“I understand,” Yuuri breathed, his hands trembling.He wished he could just whisk Viktor away, put him somewhere safe until the threat had passed, but since they didn’t know where the threat was even coming from it would be impossible to keep him completely safe.

“I’ll let you go,” Minako said quietly.“Your friend is almost done, and you need to skate.But Yuuri, please… Please take care of yourself as well, if possible.”

“Yes, yes,” Yuuri said absently, and kept the phone pressed to his ear even as Minako hung up and the dial tone buzzed in his ears.The buzzing in his ears didn’t go away as Phichit’s skate finished, his friend standing in the middle of the ice with his arms raised and sweat running down his face.

Yuuri managed to slip his phone back in his bag and clap, his body feeling numb.Oh, oh, he felt like he was going to have a panic attack.He hadn’t had a panic attack in a long time.

Yuuri pressed his hand to his mouth and closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to vomit, but in the darkness behind his eyelids a vision of Viktor flashed.Viktor was skating, skating, skating, and then he was falling, his blood red on the ice, shot from the rafters, and Yuuri was rushing out onto the ice but he was too late, Viktor was dead, his boyfriend was dead, his love was dead-

“Yuki!” Phichit exclaimed, and suddenly his face was close to Yuuri’s. Yuuri blinked in surprise, held up mostly by Phichit’s strong grip on his shoulders.“Yuki, are you alright?” Phichit said urgently.“You look like you’re going to throw up.”

Yuuri choked on the breath trying to get into his lungs and closed his eyes again.“Breathe,” Phichit said calmly, but there was an edge of panic to his voice as well.“Just, um… Don’t breath with me, I’m out of breath, but, um… in one two three, out one two three four five-”

Yuuri smiled in spite of himself, and managed to calm his breathing.“Thank you, Phichit,” he said quietly.

Phichit gave him a nervous smile.“I hope I helped?”

Yuuri’s weak smile widened a little, and he patted one of his friend’s hands.“Definitely.”

Phichit squeezed his shoulders before letting go.“You’re up,” he said, and then added worriedly, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be alright,” Yuuri promised.

Phichit gave him a quick hug. “Then go and get ‘em,” he said.“You’re going to kill it, Yuki.”

Yuuri tried to hide the flinch at the use of _kill_ , and just smiled.“Thank you, Phichit.You did so well.”

“I guess you missed my scores?” Phichit chuckled.“I’m in first.”

Yuuri smiled slightly.“Maybe you’ll even stay there.”

“Yuki,” Celestino said, glancing over his shoulder.“You really need to get on the ice.”

“Right, sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, and gave his friend one last smile before heading to the ice, Celestino at his heels.

“What happened?” Celestino murmured once they were out of earshot from Phichit.

“It’s… it’s fine,” Yuuri murmured.He appreciated his coach’s concern, but there was no way he could tell Celestino what was going on.Yuuri bent down to take off his blade guards, handing them to his coach before stepping onto the ice.

Celestino eyed him worriedly, but gave him a firm nod.“Good luck,” he said.

Yuuri smiled shakily back before skating out onto the ice, his face uplifted and a smile plastered on his lips.The crowd cheered, blurring into one mass around him, each individual face lost, and Yuuri took the center of the ice.Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Viktor standing by the edge of the ice, leaning forward and watching him intently.In the breathless moments before his music started, Yuuri shot his boyfriend a glance.Viktor blew him a kiss, and Yuuri flushed just as the first notes of his music filtered through the arena, piano music like rain.

Yuuri moved, letting instinct take over.In the shape he was in mentally, if he let his mind dictate his actions he would fail.He would need to rely on his months of training to sustain him through his free skate, or else there was no way he would be able to make it through the entire thing.Yuuri let his mind drift as his breathing steadied a little, even in the strenuous activity of skating.

His thoughts went to Viktor, _almost_ too quickly for comfort.Yuuri smiled slightly and launched himself into his first jump as he thought of Viktor earlier that afternoon, soft and sweet as they kissed.

Another thought of Viktor, dead and staining the ice red, body splayed for the world to see, pushed into his mind, but Yuuri quickly pushed it away.He refused to think of Viktor dead.That just wasn’t going to happen, not if Yuuri had anything to do with it.He stumbled a little on his spin, but quickly regained his balance and forced his mind back to more pleasant things.

His skate was about beginnings, about the beginning of a hopeful and beautiful future, and for a time Yuuri let himself dream. He slipped into one of the fevered daydreams he had favored as a child, back when he had watched every competition of Viktor’s religiously.He let himself contemplate a future where Viktor didn’t hate him for lying to him, where they could stay together and kiss and hug and hold hands and go on dates and even sleep together… 

Yuuri pushed that thought away as well, not wanting to have any problems while out on the ice in front of everyone, but let the thought of kissing Viktor linger.Wouldn’t it be nice, once Viktor was safe, to stay with him?Yuuri knew, logically, that it wouldn’t happen.Once the threat against Viktor was gone, Yuuri would have to go back to work for Interpol, would go back to his cold, dingy, undoubtedly musty apartment in Tokyo.Viktor would hate him, or at least never trust him again, once Yuuri admitted to lying to him.

But wouldn’t it be incredible if that didn’t happen?

Yuuri landed a quad salchow with the thought of waking up next to Viktor every morning at the forefront of his thoughts, and whirled into his last spin at the thought of being able to keep all the friends and loved ones he had gained during his time undercover even after his job ended.The music peaked and ended and Yuuri was left breathless and alone in the center of the ice, sweaty and cold.His dreams fled, and Yuuri tried not to wilt as reality came rushing back.

To the tune of hundreds clapping and cheering, Yuuri made his way off the ice and back to his coach.“Yuki, that was incredible,” Celestino murmured.“I’ve never seen you skate like that.You made mistakes, but…”

“I guess I got really into it,” Yuuri mumbled, embarrassed, as he slipped his skate guards back on.“I didn’t do too bad?”

“You’re going to do very well,” Celestino promised.“You had a lower base score than most of the rest, but your performance score might make up for it.”

Yuuri smiled tiredly, accepting the helping hand from his coach as he hobbled to the kiss and cry.The time while he waited for his scores was a blur of words from reporters and the announcers above and smiles from the people around him and cameras in his face, trying to film his every reaction.

When his scores were finally announced Yuuri felt a pang deep in his chest, both surprised and disappointed.In the back of his mind he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to win, not with his skills and the mistakes he had made, not with his relative inexperience compared to the rest of the skaters, but it hurt just a bit more than he had expected to come in just underneath Phichit, only a point behind.He loved his friend, but he knew just as well as Phichit did that they wouldn’t go easy on each other.

“A personal best, Yuki!” Celestino exclaimed happily.“You should be very proud of yourself, that’s incredible!”

Yuuri smiled, pride sparking in his chest.That was true.He had done his best skate of the season, in front of the world.That wasn’t too bad.He had proved that he was worthy of making it to the Grand Prix Finals, even though he wasn’t technically a competitive figure skater.That was probably something to be proud of.

Yuuri smiled nervously at his coach.“Thank you,” he said sincerely, and Celestino smiled.

“Of course,” he replied.“It’s been an honor to coach you, Yuki.”

Yuuri smiled as they left the kiss and cry, and were immediately accosted by Viktor.

“Yuki!” the older man exclaimed, and then heedless of the cameras around them swept Yuuri up into a hug.

“Hey, Viktor,” Yuuri laughed.

“You did beautifully,” Viktor whispered.“I think you were underscored.”

Yuuri chuckled, hugging his boyfriend back.“It’s fine, Viktor, I didn’t expect to win.I did the best I could.”

“You did,” Viktor replied, and then leaned in and kissed him on the lips.“And you didn’t look so good before the competition, so I’m glad you were able to skate safely.”

“So am I,” Yuuri replied.

He _had_ managed to skate safely.

Now all he could hope was that Viktor would be able to accomplish the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR VIOLENCE: In the first section of the chapter the narrating character gets in a fight, injuring three others but getting shot in the arm. At the end of the section, he is killed. In the second section, another character finds the first character's body, and describes in some detail how he died. In the third section a character briefly imagines what might happen if another character died.
> 
> I never claimed I was nice ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> So believe it or not, there was actually another scene that was meant to be at the end of this chapter that I cut for space and relevance, but... I might post it somewhere in the middle of the week?
> 
> The next chapter will not be out until at least Friday, June 8th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a wonderful day, dear reader!


	17. Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which changes are made and some questions are answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So um... I guess the end of the last chapter was an unintentional cliffhanger? Whoops? 
> 
> Technically this chapter is a bit early, but here we are... this is a bit of a patchwork, so hope it's not too confusing! And if anyone's interested, here's a little [scene](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/post/174603438003/so-this-is-a-little-extra-scene-that-was) that didn't make it into the end of the last chapter due to length and time... it's not much, and not particularly important to the plot of the fic as a whole, but I thought it was cute so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Minako was just getting ready to leave work for the day, far later than she had intended, when her cell phone began to ring.

Minako sighed deeply before picking the device up, answering it with a curt, “Who is this?”There weren’t many people who had this personal number, and among those who did most were her subordinates.

“I need him for longer,” the voice on the other end said desperately.“I need more time.”

With a frown, Minako sunk back down into her desk chair, leaning back slightly.“Why?” she asked, examining her fingernails.“As per our agreement, you only had until the Grand Prix Finals ended.As far as I can tell, Viktor is safe.You said there haven’t been any more threats since the one right before the short program?”

“Not that I know of,” the man said.“Vitya hides them from me, when he can, but… Yuki informed me that Vitya said there weren’t any more.”

Minako pursed her lips.“Yakov,” she said.“Please remember that _Yuki_ is a trained and experienced Interpol agent, not a personal bodyguard for your skater.Interpol will keep surveillance, of course, but it seems like the people who have been threatening Viktor have given up.They must have realized that sending threats wasn’t helping them with their goals.We just don’t need an agent on the case full time.”Minako closed her eyes, and, unbidden, an image of Morooka’s corpse flashed in front of her eyes.

“Minako,” Yakov said somberly.“One of your agents _died_ the day of the free program.I would say Viktor is still in a fair amount of danger.”

Minako rubbed her forehead an an effort to stave off the headache that was very quickly approaching.“I’m _very_ aware of that, Feltsman,” she said coldly.“But without solid evidence that Viktor is in danger, there’s not much we can do anymore.Yuki’s orders were very clear, and his time on the case, and the time of my other agents,  is up.They all have other assignments waiting for them when they get back to Japan.”

“Please, just let him stay until Worlds,” Yakov said desperately.He was quiet for a moment, and then murmured, “I’m afraid that this silence, this lack of threats from the people who want Viktor dead, is just the calm before the storm.”

Minako hummed thoughtfully.“Until after Worlds?” she repeated.“Feltsman, Cialdini only agreed to work with us until the Grand Prix Finals, and even then he was somewhat reluctant to expose his other skaters to whatever danger could follow Yuki’s assignment."

“I’ll coach Yuki,” Yakov blurted, and then went silent.

Minako arched one brow.That wasn’t a development she had expected.“You’ll coach Yuki?” she said slowly.“You refused nine months ago, saying that it would be too conspicuous.What’s changed?”

“I fear for Vitya’s life,” Yakov whispered.“I… I don’t know if I could forgive myself if something happened to him.And besides, Yuki is in a relationship with Viktor, and neither of them have exactly been subtle about that fact.It would arouse far less suspicion now that he and Viktor are… are _dating_ , or whatever it is that they’re doing, if I took Yuki on as a student.”

“I’ll need to talk with Yuki,” Minako said slowly.“And consult with my superiors.”

“I understand,” Yakov said solemnly.“Just.. please.Try.”

Minako made a vague sound of assent before hanging up.She sighed quietly, kneading her temples and staring out the window across from her desk to the city of Tokyo beyond.The light of the city were bright, shining like a galaxy, and Minako couldn’t decide if she wanted to gaze at them in wonder or tear them all out of the sky.

After a long few moments of staring out the window, Minako got up from her desk and strode across the office to a door set in the wall.After inputting her PIN and scanning her fingerprint, the door unlocked to reveal several filing cabinets, the filing cabinets that contained confidential information about all the cases Minako was in charge of or involved in.  She exhaled slowly, staring into her vault of information, and then reached out to open the drawer closer to her, extracting the correct file of information before closing and locking the door behind her.

Minako sat back down at her desk and stared down at the file, centered perfectly on her desk, still closed and stamped with the Interpol seal on the front.With one finger she flicked the cover of the file up, staring down at the first page of the case file, an information overview.Minako sighed deeply.She had a great deal of work to do.

***

Yuuri was just leaving practice when his cell phone rang, the screen displaying a familiar number.Phichit paused, glancing curiously at Yuuri’s frown.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” Yuuri apologized.

“Oh, it’s fine, I’ll wait for you,” Phichit said with a grin, sitting back down on the bench they had just vacated and letting his bag thump to the ground beside him.

Yuuri swallowed, and then say back down next to his friend and answered the phone.“Minako,” he said quietly, glancing over to make sure Phichit was occupied.His friend had been unusually clingy all day, knowing that Yuuri was due to leave in a week. “What’s the matter?” Yuuri asked worriedly.

Minako sighed deeply, sounding exhausted, and then said, “I need to ask a favor of you, Yuuri.”

“What is it?” Yuuri asked, more than a little suspicious.Minako’s favors were usually either completely harmless, or ridiculously dangerous.

“Yakov Feltsman wants you to continue to protect Viktor until the World Championships are over,” Minako said abruptly.

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “He does?” he said.“Why?”He glanced again at Phichit.His friend couldn’t speak Japanese, but… Phichit glanced up as if he sensed Yuuri’s attention, and smiled before returning to the post he was drafting on Instagram.

“He’s still concerned for Viktor’s safety,” Minako replied.“I don’t blame him, to be quite honest.Morooka did, well…”She trailed off significantly, and Yuuri nodded in agreement.

“That’s true,” he agreed.“I don’t blame him, either,” he agreed.“To be honest… I was going to ask you for an extension on my assignment as well,I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring it up.”

Minako huffed indignantly.“He’s offered to coach you,” she said, and stifled what sounded like a yawn before adding, “Under the assumption that if you stayed close, you would be able to keep Viktor safe more effectively.”

“That would make sense,” Yuuri agreed.He clutched his phone tightly, and then murmured, “Do you have approval from the higher-ups in Interpol?Will they let me go?”

“If I didn’t have approval, I wouldn’t have mentioned anything to you,” Minako snapped.

Yuuri winced.“I understand,” he said levelly.

Minako sighed again, exhausted.“Yuuri, I need you to understand the danger you may be in,” she said.“Morooka Hisashi died because he found out more information than these people wanted him to know.The same fate could very well befall you.”

“I’ve known that all along,” Yuuri said firmly.“I went into this knowing i might have to give my life to save Viktor.That hasn’t changed, Minako.”

“Alright,” Minako said.“Then if you’re sure, we can make arrangements for you to travel to Russia and begin skating under Yakov Feltsman.”

“I’m sure,” Yuuri said resolutely.

He thought he could hear a smile in Minako’s voice as she said, “I’ll inform those who need to be informed.I would give Feltsman a call at some point as well, Yuuri.To make sure everything is arranged.”

“I understand,” Yuuri said.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Minako promised, and then hung up.

Yuuri slowly lowered his hand, phone still clenched tightly against his palm, and stared pensively down at it.“What was that about?” Phichit asked, turning off his phone and stuffing it in his pocket.

Yuuri twisted his mouth, unsure quite what to say.It was probably best to go with the truth, or at least as close to the truth as he was willing to go.“I, um… I might be going to Russia?” Yuuri said timidly.

Phichit’s eyes widened.“Russia?” he repeated.“How come?”

Yuuri looked down at his lap to gather his thoughts.“Well, you know my contract with Ciao Ciao officially ended after the Grand Prix Finals,” Yuuri murmured.“According to my manager back in Japan, apparently Yakov Feltsman has offered to coach me for the rest of the season?I guess he thinks… he thinks I have potential?”Yuuri felt a little bad, talking about his skills if he was worthy to be coached by someone as skilled as Yakov Feltsman, but tried to keep a straight face. Phichit had already expressed some modicum of doubt at Yuuri’s flimsy reason for why his contract with Celestino was over so quickly, it really wouldn’t do to make him any more suspicious.

Phichit studied him, and then a smile slowly grew on his face.“Yuki, that’s amazing,” he gushed.“I’m so happy for you!”

Yuuri smiled a little shyly.“Thank you, Phichit.”

“So,” Phichit said in a teasing voice.“Are you going to live with Viktor while you’re there?”

Yuuri blushed, and then shrugged.“Maybe,” he said shyly.“I… I kind of hope so.I’ll have to talk to Yakov later.”

“I’m happy for you, Yuki,” Phichit said.“I’m happy you’ll get the chance to keep skating with a good coach.”

Yuuri smiled, trying to hide his confusion.He had thought Phichit would have protested more or asked more questions.The support was nice, though. 

“I actually have to run to the bathroom real quick,” Phichit said with a small smile.“You can go ahead, if you want.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind waiting,” Yuuri said, pulling out his phone again.Phichit smiled, and quickly disappeared down the hall to the offices and the bathrooms.

Yuuri settled himself on the bench to wait.He contemplated calling or texting Viktor, to tell him the news,but decided to wait until he got the chance to talk to Yakov, which he could do when he got back to the apartment and had the chance to properly process everything that had happened.It would be best if he had all the details before he talked to anyone else. 

***

“Vitya, come here,” Yakov shouted from halfway across the rink, where he was standing next to Georgi.Viktor, who had just been about to escape the rink for the day, turned with a slow sigh. 

“What is it?” he said quietly, making his way over to his coach and rink mate.Georgi, even after a long and exhausting day of practice, gave him a weak smile.

Yakov crossed his arms over his chest, and frowned disapprovingly at Viktor.Viktor dropped his bag on the floor by his feet and crossed his arms back before asking preemptively, “What did I do this time?”

“You didn’t do anything, not that I know of,” Yakov grumbled.“I need to ask a favor of you.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“What is it?”Yakov, a remarkably prideful man, had only asked Viktor for a favor one before, and even that had only been a loan of about 10,000 rubles which had been paid back promptly.

Yakov sighed deeply, rubbing his brow, and then said gruffly, “I’m taking on a new skater, but it’s a rather last minute arrangement… a favor for a friend.He does not have an apartment in St. Petersburg yet.Could he stay with you until he finds more permanent lodgings?”

Viktor frowned slightly.He hadn’t had a permanent or semi-permanent roommate in more than ten years.“Why me?” he said.“He can’t stay with you?”

Yakov sighed again, louder and huffier this time.“I thought he might be more comfortable with you than with me,” he said.“Vitya, it would be for a week at most.”

“Yakov, if you really need, he can stay with me,” Georgi offered quietly, looking between Viktor and Yakov.They both ignored him.

“What’s his name, Yakov?” Viktor asked impatiently.“I can’t think of too many skaters who would be _more_ comfortable staying with the so-called Living Legend, unless you’ve decided to invite Christophe to the rink.”Viktor looked down at his fingernails as if they were remarkably interesting.He minded having someone stay with him, but not enough to refuse.It was just amusing to egg Yakov on.

Yakov grit his teeth, a muscle jumping in his jaw.“Nakamura Yuki,” he snapped finally, veins bulging in his forehead.

Viktor looked up sharply.“Wait, what?”

“What?” Georgi echoed, aghast.

Yakov took several deep, steadying breaths, and then said, “As a favor to Celestino Cialdini, I’ve agreed to coach Nakamura Yuki until Worlds,” he said in a tight voice.

Viktor grinned, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.“Are you joking?” he said.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Georgi added, his eyes wide.

Yakov rubbed his jaw, and shrugged slightly.“Like I said, it’s a favor,” he said.He looked up sharply at Viktor.“Not for you.”

Viktor hid his grin behind two hands.“This is amazing!” he exclaimed.“Yakov, why didn’t you tell me who it was immediately?Of course Yuki can stay with me until he finds a place.”Unable to contain his brimming excitement, he added, “He can stay with me for longer, if he wants!”

“Yakov, are you sure taking on Nakamura is a good idea?” Georgi interrupted, brow furrowed.

Viktor gave his rink mate an odd look.“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?” he asked.

Georgi’s eyes flickered to Viktor, as if he had just remembered that he was there.“Um, having your boyfriend in the rink might distract you,” he said hesitantly after a moment.Viktor crossed his arms over his chest.

“And having your girlfriend around didn’t?”

It was a low blow, but Georgi just grimaced.“Point.”He glanced over to Yakov.“I just think it’s a bad idea to have him around here.Isn’t there anywhere else he could go, Yakov?”

Yakov frowned forbiddingly.“Celestino asked me personally,” he said.“And I’ve already cleared it with Nakamura’s manager in Japan.”

Georgi’s eyes widened imperceptibly at that, but he nodded.

“I’m so excited,” Viktor gushed, clasping his hands together and choosing to ignore his rink mate’s odd behavior.“I’m going to go call him now!”

Yakov nodded.“Get more details from him,” he said.“And I’ll talk to him later in the week.Tell him that.”

Viktor bent over to pick up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder with newfound energy.“Got it!”

“Popovich, I want to see you in my office,” Yakov said to Georgi as Viktor left, practically skipping.

Yuki was coming to Russia!He was coming to skate at the same rink as Viktor!They would be in the same space every day for a few months, and Yuki was even going to _live_ with him!It would be incredible to see Yuki all the time, and Viktor would get the chance to show him all around St. Petersburg.

Viktor slowed to a walk, pausing only briefly to pull his phone out of his bag before dialing Yuki as he started walking again.Yuki picked up on the second ring with a soft, “Moshi moshi,” and Viktor smiled fondly.

“Hey, Yuki,” he said quietly.“Is that Japanese?”

“Ah, sorry,” Yuki said, his accent thickening a little.“I didn’t look at who was calling.My sister said she was going to call me soon, and I thought…”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Viktor laughed, and Yuki chuckled in reply.

“I’m not disappointed at all,” he said.“I love talking to you, you know that.”

“So,” Viktor said with a small, teasing smile that he knew Yuki would be able to hear in his voice.“Yakov told me some good news today.”

“Oh, yes,” Yuki said.“My manager called me earlier. Are you… are you alright with it?”

“Yuki, of course!” Viktor exclaimed.“It’s going to be lovely to see you again!”

“I’m glad you’re alright with this,” Yuki said, sounding relieved.“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, nothing was finalized until yesterday.”

Viktor smiled at the phone as he walked into the lobby of his apartment building and made his way to the stairs.“Did Yakov tell you that you’ll be staying with me?” he said.

Yuki made a small, pleased noise.“He didn’t,” he admitted.“But thank you, Viktor.I mean, if you don’t mind me staying…?”

“Of course I don’t,” Viktor promised.“I’m very excited to have you.”

“I’m excited to see you as well,” Yuki admitted shyly, and Viktor smiled.“This is going to be amazing, Yuki,” he said.“I can’t wait for you to come.”

Yuki laughed, and perhaps it was Viktor’s imagination but his boyfriend sounded just a bit nervous.“I can’t wait either,” Yuki replied.

***

Phichit stared down at his phone screen, the only thing illuminating his dim room aside from the dim morning light that filtered through his filmy curtains.There was a photo on the screen, a photo he had taken the day before just before leaving the rink.Now all he had to do was decide if he should use the information contained within the photo. He had to think rationally about this, he  _had_ to, but the blind panic at the possibility of losing his friend made it difficult.

Phichit sighed deeply, rubbing his face with both hands.In the next room he could hear Yuki’s low voice, talking to someone on the phone. _Yuki…_ Yuki was going to Russia, to St. Petersburg, to where Viktor was, despite the fact that to Phichit’s understanding he hadn’t been planning to skate at Worlds or any other competition in between.To Phichit’s understanding, Yuki had been planning to retire, or something like it, after the Grand Prix Finals, which Phichit took to mean that was when his mission, whatever it was, would be over… But now Yuki was going to Russia.

Now Yuki was going to Russia, where Viktor Nikiforov lived.The most plausible reason had to be that Yuki’s assignment from Interpol had something to do with Viktor.But what could it be?Was Viktor doing something wrong that Interpol wanted to catch him at, or was he in danger from someone who wanted to hurt him?Phichit leaned against the wall, eyes closed.In all likelihood, Viktor wasn’t doing something wrong, or at least wasn’t doing something evil.Phichit might not know everything about Yuki, not by a long shot, but he was fairly sure his friend wouldn’t date someone who was suspected of committing horrible crimes.So that must mean that Viktor was in danger…That Viktor was in a danger Yuki and Interpol must have thought would end after the Grand Prix Finals, but must have extended at least to Worlds.And since Yuki was going to Russia, Yakov Feltsman must be in on whatever was going on.

But now that Yuki and Viktor were dating, or at least said they were dating, Yuki’s perception of danger could very well be warped.Which meant that he might be more willing to sacrifice himself for Viktor’s sake… and die.And if Phichit knew _anything_ , it was that he couldn’t let his friend die.He owed him that much, at the least.He had to at least try to help, consequences be damned.It was the right thing to do, or at least… it _seemed_ like the right thing to do.

Phichit picked up his phone, unlocked it, and then stared down at the photo he had taken a picture of a contact on Celestino’s phone.After a long moment, he switched apps and slowly dialed the number he had memorized, pressing the phone to the his ear.The phone rang twice, three times, and then was picked up with a gruff phrase in Russian.

“I assume you speak English?” Phichit said cooly, hoping his voice didn’t tremble as much as he thought it did.

There was a long pause, and then the man on the other end said, “Who is this?”

Phichit pressed his lips together.“My name is Phichit Chulanont, Mr. Feltsman,” he said.“I’m rink mates with Nakamura Yuki.”

He took a deep breath, and made his decision.“Or, as I guess you know him, Katsuki Yuuri.”

Feltsman was silent for a long moment, but Phichit could hear him breathing, just on the quick side of normal.“What do you want?” Feltsman said finally.

Phichit examined his fingernails, hoping it would give his voice an air of easy confidence.“I want to stay with Yuuri,” he said.“He’s already told me that he plans to skate at your rink until Worlds.I want to come as well.”

Feltsman made a frustrated noise.“I can’t do that,” he said angrily.  "I’m taking on _Nakamura_ as a favor.I have no idea who this Katsuki person is.”

Phichit swallowed hard.“I find that hard to believe,” he said slowly.“You know full well who Yuuri works for.I can contact Interpol as well, you know.I can get clearance myself, but I figured this might be easier.”

Feltsman fell silent again.“What weight would your word pull at Interpol?” he scoffed finally.“I don’t know why we’re having this conversation, Chulanont, you have no leverage over me.The answer is no.I don’t need anyone more than necessary at my rink.”Something about Feltsman’s tone reminded Phichit of Yuri Plisetsky, and something clicked in his head.

_Katsudon?There’s been another threat-_

“I know that Viktor is being threatened,” Phichit blurted.If he was wrong, what was the worse that could happen?Kidnapping? Imprisonment?A quiet execution to silence him?Phichit squeezed his phone so hard he could swear the screen was about to crack, and then added, “Yuuri hasn’t told me everything, but I know enough.I know Viktor is being threatened, and Yuri Plisetsky is helping Yuuri stay informed on events at your rink, and Yuuri’s undercover trying to figure out how to keep Viktor safe.”He set his jaw, and then said, “He told me because he needed my help.He knows how good I am at finding information, and I’ve been helping him try to figure out the whole picture.So I need to come, if Viktor is going to stay safe.”

“He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,” Feltsman hissed with such venom in his voice that Phichit flinched.Feltsman took a long, loud breath, let it out, and then said in a slightly calmer voice, “Katsuki was supposed to keep this to himself.This is confidential information, civilians shouldn’t be mixed up in all this.And the more people who know means that more people are at risk.”

“I might be a civilian, but Yuuri says I’ve been a great help,” Phichit lied through his teeth.“And I’d be a whole lot more helpful if I was able to stay close to him and help him directly.Don’t you want Viktor to be safe?”

“Of course I do,” Feltsman snapped.“That’s why I’ve done everything that I’ve done, even against my better instincts sometimes.”

Phichit smiled slightly in spite of himself.The fact that Feltsman wasn’t protesting anymore confirmed that his wild guesses had been at least somewhat accurate.“So then we agree,” Phichit said firmly.“In order to wrap up Interpol’s investigation as quickly as possible, I’ll come to Russia as well to assist Yuuri.”Phichit bit his lip when Feltsman didn’t answer immediately.The coach was clearly wavering.He just needed something to push him over the edge into letting Phichit come with Yuki.Phichit was fully prepared to give him that push.

“And please keep in mind what I know,” Phichit said quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping one arm around them.He cast his mind back to every time he had been around both Viktor and Yuki, and not once had Viktor ever looked like he suspected Yuki of being a spy.“I know you’re trying to keep Interpol’s investigation from Viktor,” Phichit hedged.“So… it might be better to keep me happy.”

“You don’t need to blackmail me,” Feltsman said angrily.“Fine.You may come with Nakamura so long as I get official confirmation from him, your coach, and someone from Interpol.”

Phichit gritted his teeth.“Fine,” he replied.“That works just fine for me.”

Without another word Feltsman hung up, and Phichit collapsed boneless on his bed, heart racing.He had, somehow, convinced one of the best figure skating coaches in the world to take him on, even under duress.Now all he had to do was convince Yuki- Yuuri- to get him confirmation from Interpol.

Phichit gently slapped the back of his phone against his palm a few times, and then rolled out of bed before listening carefully.In the next room over he could faintly hear Yuki moving around, but not talking.He must be done with his phone call.Now was the perfect time for Phichit to pitch the idea of going to Russia.

Phichit ran his fingers through his hair, took several deep breaths, and then before he could talk himself out of it left his own room and knocked on Yuki’s door.The movement inside stopped, and after a moment Yuki opened the door, blinking owlishly at Phichit.“Hey, what’s the matter?” he said, and then squinted.“You look… _off.”_

Phichit smiled wanly.“I think we should talk.”

Yuki raised an eyebrow, glanced over his shoulder, and then opened the door wider to let Phichit in.“Is everything alright?“ Yuki asked, scurrying over to his desk while Phichit settled himself on the bed.Phichit watched quietly as Yuki carefully gathered up the papers spread on his desk and stuffed them into the bottom drawer… the drawer that would be locked as soon as Phichit left. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Phichit said quietly.Yuki looked up just as he nudged the door closed with his leg, and then sat down in his desk chair.

“Do what?” Yuki said in confusion, leaning forward slightly and resting his chin on his arm slung over the back of the chair.At that moment, with his eyes wide behind his glasses and his hair still disheveled with sleep, Phichit could hardly behave he was a spy, or at least an international police officer.

Phichit took a deep breath.“You don’t have to keep pretending,” he said.

Yuki cocked his head, a small frown on his lips.“What do you mean, pretending?”

Phichit licked his dry lips.“I know who you are,” he said in the barest whisper, unable to meet Yuki’s eyes.This was harder than he had expected it would be.“I know who you work for.”

Yuki blinked several times in rapid succession.“The… ISU?” he said uncertainly, a perfect picture of innocence and bemusement.

Phichit clenched his fists, and met his eyes.“Katsuki.Interpol agent Katsuki Yuuri.I know the truth.”

Faster than Phichit could register Yuki was on his feet, the bottom drawer of his desk was open, and there was a gun in his hands pointed at Phichit.“Who told you?” Yuuri said calmly.His hands were steady, but there was something raw and terrified in his eyes.

Slowly, with his hands raised to show that he meant no harm, Phichit rose from his perch on the bed.“No one told me,” he said in a low, trembling voice, eyes darting between Yuuri’s face and the gun in his hands.“I figured it out all on my own.”

Yuuri studied him carefully, eyes cold.

Phichit nervously licked his lips, and for the first time it occurred to him that he may have made a mistake.“Don’t you believe me?” he said weakly.

Yuuri pressed his lips together.“I want to believe you,” he said, and Phichit clung to the shred of warmth in his voice.“But to be quite honest, I can’t afford to, not without proof.”

“Right after Rostelecom,” Phichit said desperately.“When you were exhausted and left late for class because you forgot to set an alarm and I forgot to wake you up.You accidentally left your door unlocked, and I snooped a little.”Gently setting his phone down on the bed, he pointed with a slightly trembling hand at the closet.“The shoe that you keep the key to your drawer was misaligned, so I was able to find it.I saw your notes, your IDs, and…. and, obviously, your gun.”

“Why?” Yuuri said, his voice cracking slightly.“Phichit, I promised Celestino that I would keep you safe, keep you out of this mess. Why did you have to go poking your nose into places it doesn’t belong?”

“I had to know the truth,” Phichit said in a low voice.“I had noticed you were acting suspicious before, that weird things you said and did were beginning to pile up… I had to know.”He grinned wanly.“Curiosity killed the cat, I suppose.”

“Not if I can help it,” Yuuri muttered, and in one smooth movement returned the gun to the drawer and closed it.He crossed the room, brushing by Phichit as he went, and picked up his phone.

“What are you doing?” Phichit said, frowning. 

Yuuri gave him a severe look.“I’m calling my handler at Interpol,” he replied.“You need to go into protective custody until Interpol figures out what to do.”

“No, wait!” Phichit exclaimed, as Yuuri unlocked his phone.

Yuuri looked up, eyes blazing.“Wait?” he said incredulously.“Phichit, do you have any idea how much danger you could be in?If I wasn’t who you thought I was… if you accidentally said the wrong thing to the wrong people…”He shook his head violently as if to dismiss the thought.“Phichit, it’s far too dangerous for you to be involved in this any more than you already are.”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” Phichit argued desperately.“Tell me what’s going on, so I _don’t_ say the wrong thing to the wrong person.Let me help you.”

“Phichit, _no,”_ Yuuri said fiercely, clenching one fist.“I’m putting my foot down.You’ll need to stay out of this, probably sign some nondisclosure agreements… maybe we’ll be able to find you a protected rink to practice at until your next competition, but to be quite honest I’m not sure how…”

“I can help,” Phichit insisted.“I already figured out who you were, didn’t I?And part of what’s going on?I could help you catch whoever you’re trying to catch.”

“The fact that you don’t know says enough,” Yuuri snapped.“Phichit, one of Interpol’s agents already _died.”_

Phichit stared at him aghast.“ _What?”_

Yuuri shut off the screen of his phone for the moment, his jaw clenched.“One of the agents working on the case with me was killed four floors beneath the one where Viktor was staying at the hotel in Barcelona, because he knew too much.That was a fully qualified Interpol agent, trained in weapons, combat, and stealth, who had been in the field for at least five years.If they catch wind of you, you don’t stand a chance.”

Phichit’s eyes widened as possibilities flashed before his eyes.Maybe his thought about being kidnapped or killed hadn’t been that far off.

“I at least need to call in and get you some sort of protection,” Yuuri muttered.“If you haven’t talked to anyone else, maybe you’ll be fine-”

“I, um, have?” Phichit squeaked.

Yuuri’s gaze sharpened. “You’ve what?”

Phichit cleared his throat.“I called Yakov Feltsman and asked him to coach me as well as you,” he said.“I assume that’s why you’re going to Russia?Something to do with your assignment from Interpol?Feltsman certainly seemed to know that you’re an Interpol agent.”

Yuuri made a small, whining sound of frustration, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair.“OK, alright, it’s not as bad as it could be,” he muttered.“At least you didn’t talk to Viktor, or someone else at the St. Petersburg rink.”

Phichit’s stomach sunk.“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he mumbled.“But I wanted to help.” He looked up, with effort meeting Yuuri’s eyes.“I still _do_ want to help.”

Yuuri’s expression softened slightly, and he took a step closer to Phichit.“I know you want to help,” he said quietly.“But it’s far too dangerous.I know I don’t look it, but I’m a fully trained agent.This isn’t my first rodeo, so to speak.I know what I’m doing.”

Phichit took a deep breath.“But are you sure you do?” he said quietly.“Yuuri, I can tell your feelings for Viktor are real, and from what I can tell your assignment has something to do with Viktor and his safety.Are you sure you’re not too emotionally invested?Wouldn’t it help to have someone more clearsighted there as well?”He looked down at his socked feet, the threadbare carpet beside Yuuri’s bed.“I know that a lot of things these past several months have been a lie, but some things are real.You’re still my friend, Yuuri.One of the best friends I’ve had.I _can’t_ let you die.”

Yuuri sighed quietly.“Trust me, Phichit, I know how you feel,” he started.

Phichit jumped on that concession.“Will you let me prove it to you?” he said.“Please, let me prove that I can be helpful, even remotely."He rubbed at his face.“I don’t know… I mean…”

Yuuri cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.“What is it exactly that you think you could do to help?” he said finally, sounding defeated.

Phichit brightened.“You’ll let me help?”

Yuuri gritted his teeth.“Against my better instincts, I’m considering it,” he said.“I’d have to get clearance, and probably still get you a bodyguard or at least some police protection, but-”

“So I can come to Russia with you?” Phichit said excitedly.

Yuuri squinted.“Absolutely not, that’s far too dangerous.But if you really think you could be helpful, I could… I could consult you?”

Phichit nodded, sensing that that was the best he was going to get.

Yuuri rubbed his temples.“Quite honestly, Interpol is getting desperate,” he said.“I was supposed to have caught the threat at this point, or at least have collected enough evidence to arrest them, but… I have nothing.Well, not nothing.”He laughed bitterly, crossing to his drawer and opening it to reveal that it was stuffed with papers.“Too much.Interpol’s narrowed their list of suspects down from hundreds to dozens, but most of them are people I’ve never met and more than half have a tenuous connection to the figure skating world at best.”

Phichit looked up.“Can I take a look?” he asked.

Yuuri pressed his lips together.“Let me call my handler,” he said.“I’ll speak English, so you know what we’re saying.”

Phichit nodded, wrapping the hem of his shirt around one finger until the tip turned white.“Thank you.”

Yuuri sat down heavily in his desk chair with a long sigh, and dialed before putting the phone on speaker.Phichit listened with bated breath, his heart in his throat, as the phone was picked up and a woman said something in Japanese.“Hey, Minako,” Yuuri said quietly.“Could we speak English for now?”

“What’s going on, Nakamura?” the woman said, her accent just as thick as Yuuri had pretended his was.

Yuuri chewed on his lip, and then said slowly, “So we have Yuri Plisetsky on our list of informants because he found out who I work for… would it be possible to add another informant?”

There was a long sigh, and then the woman said, “Who found out this time?”

Yuuri winced.“My roommate, Phichit Chulanont.”

“I suppose it could have been worse,” Minako grumbled.“At least Markov doesn’t know who you are.”She paused.“If we’re speaking English, I assume Chulanont is listening?”

“Um, hi,” Phichit said meekly.He had no idea what this Minako person looked like, but something in her voice struck fear into his heart.

“Chulanont,” Minako said firmly.“What do you know?”

“Not everything, not for sure,” Phichit said quietly, leaning forward a little.“But enough.I know who Yuuri works for, and that he’s been assigned to protect Viktor Nikiforov from some threat.”

His eyes widened.“Wait, am I allowed to say that out loud?What if someone is listening to us?”

“This is a secure line,” Yuuri assured him.“I switch cell phones at random to ensure that no one will be able to tap me for long, if at all, and Interpol’s phone lines are protected.”

Phichit breathed a sigh of relief.

“Chulanont,” Minako said.“Plisetsky is useful to us because he knows many of the skaters and staff at Nikiforov’s rink, some of whom could very well be suspects.What do you have to offer?”

“I know a lot of people in the international skating world,” Phichit said.“And I’m good at finding information.If I put my ear to the ground and did a little research, I might be able to help.”

Minako sighed, long and loud.“Yuuri, I’ll send you the papers for him to sign,” she said.“Call me again when you're alone so we can discuss security.”

“Hai,” Yuuri replied with a sharp nod, his brown eyes hard.

“Welcome to the investigation, Phichit Chulanont,” Minako said grimly.“Now we have another person to keep from getting killed.”

***

“Gosha!” Yakov bellowed from across the rink.Georgi looked up just as he was about to leave, and sighed.Yakov was going to ask him to do something inconvenient, he could practically smell it.

“What is it?” Georgi said calmly, hiding his irritation.

“Vitya has a sponsor meeting this afternoon,” Yakov said, lowering his volume only slightly.“Can you pick up Nakamura Yuki at the airport?”

Georgi stifled his sigh.“Sure, no problem,” he said.“What time is he coming in?”

“Three,” Yakov said, sounding a bit… sheepish?Georgi glanced at the clock on the wall, and cursed.It was already almost two.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Georgi said quickly, and hurried out without looking back.

The drive to the airport was shorter than he had expected, and Georgi had a few minutes to himself before he would have to go in to wait for Yuki.Georgi took that time to scribble a small sign on a piece of scrap paper he found in the back of his car,Yuki’s name in English, the closest approximation in Cyrillic, and what he hoped were the right characters in Japanese.

That done, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes for a minute to really think things over.Katsuki Yuuri, alias Nakamura Yuki, was coming to Russia.He was going to be in the same rink as Viktor for a few months, probably almost always by Viktor’s side.That could very well prevent anything bad from happening to Viktor.Hell, if Viktor felt safer with Yuki around, maybe he wouldn’t even retire.

Georgi frowned slightly, running his fingers through his hair.Viktor didn’t seem to know that Yuki worked for Interpol, though.He had to admit, the Japanese spy was quite good at his job.Maybe too good…Viktor clearly believed everything Yuki said, and was just setting himself up for heartbreak.

Georgi heaved a sigh and leaned his head against his steering wheel, jumping slightly when the horn sounded for a second.When he pulled back, he dug his phone out of his pocket and stared down at the blank screen.He should probably call… it would be the right thing to do.He should tell him that _Katsuki Yuuri_ was here. Georgi gritted his teeth, getting out of the car and stuffing his phone back in his pocket.Not now.Not yet.But he had to call, to let him know, before it was too late.

Georgi grabbed his makeshift sign and locked his car door before heading into the airport, breathing a small sigh of relief at the warmth inside before finding directions to the arrivals area.He only had to wait about half an hour, in the end, until Yuki approached him with a small frown on his face.

“Hello?” the Japanese man said cautiously, his accent as thick as ever.“I, um… are you here to pick me up?I kind of thought Viktor…”

Georgi flashed him a tired smile, rolling up the sign and sticking it in his coat pocket.“Vitya had a meeting with sponsors today, so I got drafted instead.Do you have everything?”

Yuki nodded, looking around the airport with wide eyes and a slightly bemused expression.He turned his attention back to Georgi, and laughed sheepishly.“Sorry, it is a bit odd to be switching countries again, and I speak even less Russian than I do English.”

Georgi smiled, even though he suspected that Interpol Agent Katsuki Yuuri could speak Russian just fine.“That’s completely understandable,” he said, and then glanced at Yuki’s luggage.“Do you want any help with that?”

Yuki hesitated, and then surrendered one of his suitcases.“Thank you.”

Georgi gave him another tight smile and led him out of the airport and back to his car.Yuki watched silently as Georgi loaded is bags into the trunk of his car, and smiled slightly when Georgi opened the car door for him before getting in himself.

“Thank you for the ride,” he said a little shyly, looking down at his knees.

Georgi hummed in acknowledgement as he turned out of the airport, and then said, “I didn’t have much to do today anyway.”And what he did have planned wouldn’t be until later.“You’re staying with Viktor, right?” Georgi checked, even though he knew the answer perfectly well.

Yuki nodded.“Do you know if he’ll be home?” he asked.

Georgi shrugged.“I think so.I was under the impression that his meeting ended just after your plane came in.”

Yuki smiled slightly.“Thank you.”

Georgi drummed his fingers on the top of his steering wheel as he pulled up to a red light.Yuki fidgeted slightly in his seat, turning his phone on and off.Georgi bit his tongue.The rest of the ride passed in awkward silence as Yuki looked out the window and Georgi struggled to find something to say. He had so many questions he wanted to ask-What Yuki’s true objective was, what he was going to do about Viktor, what _exactly_ Interpol thought was going on- but he didn’t want to say anything that would for whatever reason make Interpol suspicious of him.He didn’t want to get dragged into whatever was going on any more than he already had been.

By the time they reached Viktor’s apartment it was already getting dark, and it took Georgi a moment to notice that Viktor was standing outside his apartment building, leaning against the wall and looking up at the sky with Makkachin sitting at his feet.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” Yuki said quickly, and then jumped out of the car.Viktor looked over as the car door slammed, and immediately lit up. Georgi got out of the car a bit slower as Viktor swept Yuki into a hug, kissing him long and sweet on the lips as Makkachin happily tried to jump on him.

Georgi leaned against his car, crossing his arms across his chest.“Welcome to Russia, Katsuki Yuuri,” he murmured, an odd smile on his lips.

***

The man sat down on the couch in his apartment, face in shadow, heart heavy.He stared down at the phone in the palm of his hand, and then gripped his wrist to stop from trembling.With short breaths and a pounding heart the man dialed the number he had been given, closing his eyes as he listened to it ring.

Finally the ringing stopped, and without waiting for confirmation the man said, “He’s in Russia.Katsuki Yuuri has arrived successfully in St. Petersburg.”

“So you were right,” Markov replied, his voice muffled and a bit fuzzy over the phone.

“Of course I was right,” the man said before he could stop himself, and then clamped his mouth shut.He couldn’t afford to lose Markov’s approval, not if he wanted to be in a position to help Viktor as much as possible when the time came.

“Keep an eye on him,” Markov ordered, already sounding distracted.“I want regular reports on his movements now that he’s in constant contact with Nikiforov.”

The man swallowed hard.“Of course.”

“I’m glad you’re finally cooperating a bit better, Mr.-”The phone fuzzed out, and came back a moment later as Markov said, “-expect you not to raise suspicions.”

The man frowned.It was in his best interest to stay under the radar, outside of Interpol’s notice, until the time to act had come.It could very well be the only thing that would allow him to save Viktor.“I understand,” the man murmured.

“And keep an eye on Katsuki,” Markov ordered.

The man got to his feet and crossed to the window, looking out at the dark sky and the swirling snow that was already beginning to fall.“I’ll keep an eye on Katsuki,” he repeated.He felt bad, just a bit, for Katsuki.But protecting Viktor was more important.That was why he had done everything he had done.

“Good,” Markov said, his voice cold, and the man flinched unconsciously.“Prepare to set the plan in motion, then.At Worlds.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phichit is perhaps.... not making the best choices ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This next week is the last push for a big project I'm working on so I don't know exactly when the next chapter of this fic will be out, but I'm going to aim for on or around June 20th. Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fabulous day, dear reader!


	18. Love and Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a crime is committed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh this isn't the happiest of chapters so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Warnings about violence in the end notes, please read.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

“Yuki!”

Yuki looked up when Viktor called his name, and broke into a wide grin almost as wide as Viktor’s.Viktor swept him into a hug, pressing his face against Yuki’s neck.“It’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, clinging to his boyfriend.

Yuki hugged back just as tight, his breath warm under the collar of Viktor’s jacket.“It’s good to see you, too,” Yuki said with a smile against Viktor’s skin.“Thank you for letting me stay.”

Viktor held Yuki out, one hand on each of his shoulders, looking him over.“Of course, Yuki,” he said.“You can stay with me as long as you want.”

Yuki’s lips twitched as he fought a smile.“I should probably get an apartment of my own eventually, if I’m going to be living here for a few months,” he said.“But still.Thank you.”

Viktor looked over Yuki’s shoulder to see Georgi leaning against his car with his arms crossed, a small smile on his lips.“Thanks for picking him up, Gosha.”

Georgi waved a dismissive hand.“Not a problem, Vitya.”He raised an eyebrow.“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Maybe the day after?” Viktor replied with a shrug.“I was going to ask Yakov for the day off tomorrow to help Yuki get acclimated and adjust to the time difference.”

Georgi raised an eyebrow, his grin turning sly.“Sure.That’s the _only_ reason.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, and then turned his attention back to his boyfriend as Georgi unloaded Yuki’s luggage, waved, and left.Yuki was frowning curiously, brow furrowed as he presumably tried to translate what Viktor and Georgi had said.“Would you like to go inside?” Viktor asked, and Yuki smiled.

“That would be nice.”He shivered a little.“It was about this temperature in Detroit when I left, but it’s still not pleasant.”

Viktor chuckled, sliding an arm around Yuki’s waist as they walked inside, Makkachin trailing them.“I’m sure.”

Yuki looked around curiously as he crossed the lobby of Viktor’s apartment building, eyes jumping from the ceiling to each door to the elevators.“What floor do you live on?” he asked.

“I live on the fifth,” Viktor replied as he pressed the button to call the elevator.

Yuki nodded before stifling a yawn against the back of his hand."You must be exhausted," Viktor said sympathetically."What time is it to your body?"

Yuki cast his eyes up as he calculated the time difference, and then answered, “Ten in the morning in Detroit, I think.But I essentially flew all night, so I haven't slept since yesterday."

"You're welcome to go straight to bed,” Viktor said.“Unless you want to eat something?”

Yuki smiled.“That would be nice.Thank you.”

Viktor ushered Yuki into the elevator when it arrived.“We can order in, if you like,” he said.“Or I can try to cook something.”

Yuki gave him a tired smile.“Whatever’s easiest for you.I really don’t want to be a burden.”

“Yuki, you could never,” Viktor assured him.

Yuki gave Viktor the most beautiful smile, and his heart swelled.“I hope not,” Yuki murmured, leaning against Viktor a little.

Viktor hugged him back, leaning his cheek against Yuki’s soft hair and breathing in his scent.The elevator dinged as it arrived at Viktor’s floor, and Makkachin bounded out before waiting at Viktor’s door.Viktor unlocked the door with a chuckle before opening it to let his dog and his boyfriend into his apartment, leaving Yuki’s suitcases in the foyer for the time being.

As Yuki glanced around, his eyes a bit heavy with exhaustion, Viktor saw his apartment through another’s eyes and wasn’t exactly happy with what he saw.His apartment was relatively neat, sure, but it was also relatively soulless.In spite of the books on his shelves and the shoes by the door, the coat flung over the back of his couch and the medal cabinet in the corner of his living room, his apartment seemed cold and empty.It was more than a little embarrassing.

“Um, sorry, I know it’s not much,” Viktor started, turning his face away as he closed the door.

“It’s wonderful, Viktor,” Yuki promised, his eyes shining.“Thank you so much for letting me stay.”

Viktor toed off his shoes and then stepped forward and cupped Yuki’s face before kissing him.“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he whispered.“I want you to be here, I promise.”

Yuki blushed a little, smiling at him with tired brown eyes.He opened his mouth again, but Viktor kissed him before he could say thank you again.Yuki was grinning when they parted, and he shrugged off his coat. “Is there somewhere I should put this?” he asked.

Viktor shrugged.“I can hang it up for you if you like,” he offered, and then took Yuki’s coat, kissing him again.“Do you want to lie down while I cook?”

“I can help,” Yuki insisted, trailing Viktor as he hung up Yuki’s coat in the closet.

Viktor smiled at him.“Only if you want to.You’re my guest, you don’t have to help if you want.Let me take care of you.”

Yuki reached out, taking his hand.“Maybe I’m your guest, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t help,” he said with a smile.

Viktor squeezed his fingers.“If you say so.”

He led Yuki to the kitchen, flicking on the lights and cleaning a few things off the counter.Makkachin trotted in, whining at her bowl, and Viktor poured her some food before opening the fridge to rummage.Behind him, Yuki knelt next to Makkachin and petted her while murmuring endearments in Japanese.Viktor hid a smile behind his hand, pulling out some tomato sauce.He set about boiling water for pasta, and then started to cut up carrots for a vegetable.

Yuki got to his feet, quietly getting some pasta from the box that Viktor had left by the stove, pouring enough for the both of them into the pot when the water began to boil before stirring it.The two worked in tandem, moving around each other seamlessly, and Viktor couldn’t help but wish that it could always be like this.That he and Yuki could always be together like this, moving around each other like they had lived together for years, naturally predicting and adjusting to the other’s actions.

Their dinner was finished quicker than Viktor would have been able to finish it on his own, and Yuki carefully spooned out portions of pasta and sauce for the both of them while Viktor piled the dishes in the sink and filled the pots with water to wash later.They sat at the table next to each other, and Viktor quietly reached out and took Yuki’s hand before clumsily eating his dinner with his wrong hand.Yuki ate in silence as well, his thumb stroking the back of Viktor’s hand, and when they were finished Viktor washed their dishes while Yuki leaned against the counter, clearly trying not to fall asleep.When Viktor was finished, he turned to his boyfriend, bracketing him in his arms.Yuki smiled up at him, his face soft and open with drowsiness.

“I should sleep on the couch, I think?” he said, his accent thicker than normal.

Viktor immediately shook his head.“Absolutely not, that couch is awful to sleep on,” he replied.“My bed is big enough for the both of us.Or-” He blushed a little when Yuki’s eyes widened, but forged ahead.“Or I can sleep on the couch.But you’re jet lagged, you should be comfortable.”

Yuki gave him a small smile.“I’m comfortable sleeping together,” he said, and then blushed furiously.“I mean, just sleep.For now, at least.I mean, um…”

Viktor laughed under his breath, kissing Yuki on the forehead.“I know what you mean.Do you have something to sleep in?”

Yuki nodded.“Yes, I have pajamas, they’re in my suitcase,” he replied.It didn’t take Yuki and Viktor long to get ready for bed, and it wasn’t even six thirty when they were both sliding into bed together, content.It was far earlier than Viktor would normally go to bed, especially on the night before a rest day, but Yuki was soft and cuddly when he was sleepy and Viktor wanted nothing more than to snuggle with him.Besides, once Yuki was asleep he could probably answer emails and tend to his social media for a few hours before going to sleep.

Yuki fell asleep quickly, curled up in Viktor’s embrace, and Viktor let his eyes close as he held Yuki close.The Japanese man was a wonderful presence in his bed, warming the usually cold sheets and making his bedroom seem a little less empty.Out in the living room Viktor could hear Makkachin’s tag jingle as she settled down in her bed for the time being.She would probably wander into the bedroom sometime during the night, and Viktor would end up with a face full of poodle fur.

Yuki’s breath was soft and even in Viktor’s ear, and his face was more open and relaxed than Viktor had ever seen it awake.Even when he was just talking to Viktor, there was always something a little bit guarded about Yuki.It was probably something to do with his anxiety, but there was something in the way he held himself that was just a little stiff, like he was intentionally keeping the most delicate and breakable parts of himself back.

Viktor pulled Yuki closer, burying his face in Yuki’s soft, ruffled hair.He wanted to protect Yuki, protect those breakable secrets.It was a little bit scary, how much he knew he was willing to do for Yuki.Yuki murmured in his sleep, his mouth falling open a bit and Viktor’s heart melted.He wanted _this_ , so badly it hurt.

“Я думаю, что я тебя люблю,” Viktor whispered in Russian, muffling the words in Yuki’s hair, and his breath caught in his throat.These feeling had crept up on him so quickly, so suddenly, but somehow Viktor had always known that they were coming.He hadn’t known Yuki for long, maybe a few months, but he felt like he had known him his whole life.And his words were true.  _Я думаю, что я тебя люблю_.It was true.

Viktor had fallen in love, and he wasn’t sure he knew what to do about it.

***

It took Yuuri a moment to remember exactly where he was when he woke up in a strange bed with someone’s arms around him.He had a brief moment of panic before he recognized the feel of the person at his back, the faint smell of a familiar cologne that had sunken into the pillows on the bed.He was in Viktor Nikiforov’s apartment, sleeping in Viktor Nikiforov’s bed in Viktor Nikiforov’s arms.Teenage Yuuri would never have believed it possible.

Yuuri smiled before turning in Viktor’s arms so he could see Viktor’s face.This wasn’t the first time they had woken up together, but Yuuri never got tired of seeing Viktor’s sleeping face, lax and innocent in unconsciousness.He kissed Viktor’s brow and ran trailing fingers over his bangs.As if he sensed the attention Viktor’s face twitched and then his eyes cracked open.

“Yuki,” he murmured, a small, bright smile on his lips.

Yuuri smiled back.“Hi,” he whispered.

Viktor closed his eyes with a small groan.“What time is it, do you know?”

Yuuri squinted at the clock on Viktor’s side of the bed, and winced.“Um, about five?” he said.

Viktor muffled another groan into his pillow and wrapped his limbs around Yuuri like an octopus, pulling him closer.“Go back to sleep, then,” he mumbled into Yuuri’s shoulder, his breath warm and slightly stale.“We don’t have to go to practice today.”

Yuuri smiled, curling his arms around Viktor’s back.“We don’t,” he agreed.

Viktor made a soft, contented murmuring sound before settling back to sleep.He was asleep in a few moments, but now that Yuuri was awake he knew that it would be near impossible to return to sleep.Instead he watched over Viktor as he slept, absently stroking his hair while his mind raced.

Minako had said his assignment was extended until the World Championships finished, in March.That meant he had at least two months spending a great deal of time with Viktor, probably closer to three.And in that time Yuuri would also have to act as an active investigator, keeping his ear to the ground for any hint of a threat towards Viktor.He would also have to simultaneously keep up the charade that he was just a normal, innocent figure skater, someone who knew nothing about international intrigue. It would be difficult, to say the least.

A fleeting thought crossed Yuuri’s mind, and as much as he knew it was wrong he latched onto it.What if he… told Viktor?Not everything, of course.That would ruin the investigation.But what if… what if he told Viktor that Yakov had asked him to keep an eye out while he was in St. Petersburg?That would be kind of believable, perhaps.Except he didn’t have a good enough gauge on Yakov’s character to know if the coach would actually do something like that.But otherwise, Yuuri would have to keep quiet about _everything_ , a fact he was growing to hate more and more every day.

As good as he was at his job, it was a struggle to lie to Viktor.Yuuri had found the truth on the tip of his tongue more than once.It struck a wrong chord within him, to lie to Viktor’s face even after Viktor had shown Yuuri his weakness, his vulnerabilities and fears.Yuuri was well aware that his feelings for Viktor had a large part to do with his desire to tell him the truth, but he refused to believe that his attachment to Viktor was a detriment.If anything, it made Yuuri even more devoted to the cause of keeping Viktor safe, even if it meant sacrificing his own life to do it.If only it wasn’t so damned hard to _lie_ to him.

Yuuri sighed quietly, his breath ruffling Viktor’s hair. Viktor shifted in his arms, snuggling further into the cushions and burying his face in Yuuri’s chest.Yuuri smiled, and then fumbled over his shoulder for his phone and his glasses.Viktor would probably be asleep for another hour or two, so Yuuri might as well get some work done.

Yuuri frowned when he unlocked his phone to find a worrying amount of emails in both his work account and his “Nakamura Yuki” account.The only people who had his current work email were Minako, Minami, and his superiors at Interpol, and they would only contact him in an emergency.

Yuuri held his breath as he clicked the email from Minako, subject line blank as always, and winced when it loaded before skimming it.There was a picture attached at the bottom along with a confidential file, and Yuuri studied it for a moment before looking down at the sleeping Viktor in his arms.

According to Minako’s email, a man named Ivan Mikhailov had been murdered the night before, not an hour after the time Yuuri had arrived in St. Petersburg.Not only was he acquainted with Viktor and skated at the St. Petersburg rink, but according to Interpol’s files he had been with Viktor when Viktor had found the first threatening letter.The connections were more than worrying.

Yuuri swallowed hard, and quickly read through the emails from his other superiors at Interpol, which said more or less the thing except with the implicit threat of demotion if he didn’t clear the situation up, and then clicked on the email from Minami.

Yuuri smiled a little bit.His friend, probably having heard about the murder in St. Petersburg, had sent him an email filled with wishes of good luck on the assignment (and more than one wish for a good time in bed) and had linked him to a gossip article about Yuuri moving to Russia.Yuuri chewed on his lip, and saved the article for later.As amusing as it would be to read what a gossip rag had to say about him and Viktor, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

In his “Nakamura Yuki” email Yuuri found an email from Yakov, a terse order to meet with him at the rink as soon as possible.Yuuri swallowed, and then wormed his way out of bed to grab his laptop out of his suitcase.He settled himself back in bed, deliberately turned so that Viktor wouldn’t be able to see the screen of his laptop if he woke up without Yuuri knowing, and then opened a private tab and started some research.

The news about Ivan Mikhailov didn’t seem to have hit the news quite yet, not in any serious way.There was a small blurb about a police call to Mikhailov’s address, only about a five minute drive from where Viktor lived according to the map Yuuri found, but it seemed the police and Interpol were keeping the incident quiet for the time being.

Yuuri licked his lips, and then opened his email again to find the case file Minako had sent him.It took him a moment to remember the correct password, and then he found several pages of information about the late Mikhailov.Apparently he had been on Interpol’s prospective suspect list, along with most of the patrons at the St. Petersburg rink, even one of the prime suspects because of his connections to Viktor and the letters.Attached was also the police incident report, and Yuuri grimaced and turned his screen brightness down when he caught sight of the crime scene photos attached.Mikhailov hadn’t been quietly or cleanly killed, and if the words painted on the wall in his blood were anything to go by the murder had been a message.

Yuuri squinted at the crime scene photo before referring to the notes in the document.In Russian, the message on the wall read something to the effect of, _You’re here, and we’re watching. Last warning_.If the murder had anything to do with Yuuri’s arrival in St. Petersburg, then the message was unmistakably for him.Yuuri exhaled slowly, rubbing his face before skimming through the rest of the document.

As with the letters, no identifiable evidence had been recovered at the crime scene as of yet, but the investigators were clearly still at work.Minako had promised in her email to send him a more detailed report later in the day, once Interpol knew more.

Yuuri quickly answered Minako and his other superiors before closing his laptop lid with a sigh.This whole thing was a mess.The entire investigation was a mess, and he should have been able to solve everything earlier.His _job_ was to prevent exactly something like this from happening, and he hadn’t even accomplished that.Sure, this mission wasn’t exactly saving the world, but it did hinge on saving someone who was quickly becoming a larger and larger part of _Yuuri’s_ world.

That part of Yuuri’s world shifted in bed before entrapping a pillow in his arms, drooling a little on the top sheet.Yuuri smiled fondly, and then looked back down at his computer, resolve strengthened.He unlocked his laptop again and set about combing the police report, turning the information available to him over and over in his mind.

The murder had happened fifty six minutes after Yuuri’s plane had touched down in St. Petersburg, so he probably would have just been leaving the airport when it had happened.From the list of suspects that Interpol had provided him with, the list from a few months before of people who could have been sending threats to Viktor, both Georgi Popovich and Yakov Feltsman could be solidly eliminated.Georgi had been at the airport to pick Yuuri up, and Yakov had been at the rink, so both had confirmable and authentic alibis. That left, of the people at the rink, Babicheva, Plisetsky, and some of the hockey players and assorted employees.Everyone else had either been cleared by Interpol or was no longer considered a viable suspect.

And that wasn’t even accounting for the possibility of an accomplice or outside help.It was impossible to know for sure how many people were involved in the crimes taking place in St. Petersburg, or even what connections they had to Viktor.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes under his glasses.Reasonably, both Yuri Plisetsky and Mila Babicheva could be eliminated from the list.While it wouldn’t have been impossible for either of them to kill a man like Mikhailov, a man practically twice their size, the nature of the attack spoke of a murder carried out with brute strength rather than calculating precision.

Yuuri closed his eyes, thinking hard.The most likely possibility was that the murder had been committed by someone outside of the St. Petersburg rink, someone either unknown to Interpol or with only tenuous connections to Viktor yet still someone involved in the string of crimes that led back to Markov.But without more information, it could very well be impossible to ascertain _who_ had done it, only why.

And that led to another problem.No one was supposed to know who Yuuri was, except Phichit, Yuki Plisetsky, Yakov, and the members of Interpol.That meant that, if Markov and his underlings knew that Yuuri was an Interpol agent and had arrived in St. Petersburg with the express mission of protecting Viktor and uncovering the culprit, there had to be a leak.Someone had leaked Yuuri’s name and occupation, maybe even his face and information, to Markov.That could potentially put his life, and the viability of the mission, at serious risk.

“Yuki?” Viktor said from beside him, and Yuuri looked up before smoothing his expression.

“Oh! Viktor, you’re awake.I didn’t notice, I’m sorry.”

Viktor smiled at him, but the confusion was clear in his eyes.“Is everything alright?”He sat up a little further, studying Yuuri.“You look upset.”

Yuuri bit his lip, and then very quickly sent an email to himself with some Japanese text and closed out of the crime scene documents before turning the screen to Viktor for a moment. “My sister just emailed me to tell me that my dog is sick,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as wracked with guilt as he felt.Viktor’s eyes widened, and he enveloped Yuuri in a hug.Yuuri quickly closed his laptop before Viktor could notice that the email hadn’t been sent from Japan, but from Russia.

“I’m so sorry!” Viktor exclaimed, squeezing Yuuri just on the right side of uncomfortable.He pulled back a little, and said seriously, “I know I would be worried sick if Makkachin was sick.Do you want to call your sister?”

Yuuri pressed his lips together, quickly calculating the time difference between St. Petersburg and Hasetsu.“Maybe in a little bit?” he hazarded.He should call his parents at some point anyway, but the excuse to go on the phone and talk for a while in Japanese would be more useful if he needed to talk to Minako.

Viktor nodded, his lower lip trapped between his lips.“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he said worriedly, and Yuuri’s heart ached at the lie.

“No, but thank you, Viktor,” he said with a weak smile. _God_ , he wished he didn’t have to lie to the incredible man.

“I can distract you, if that would help?” Viktor suggested, running his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.“I can make you breakfast if you want.”

Yuuri’s smile became a little more real.“You don’t have to,” he said tentatively.

Viktor shook his head, giving Yuuri a soft, tender smile.“I want to,” he said.“Why don’t you shower, and I’ll cook?”

Yuuri nodded.“Alright, thank you,” he replied.

Viktor leaned forward and kissed him, one hand flat and warm on Yuuri’s back, and then kissed him again on the forehead when they parted.“Thank you,” he whispered.

Yuuri blinked curiously.“Thank you for what?” he asked.

Viktor blushed a little, the pink unspeakably cute on his cheeks.“Last night was the best I’ve slept in a while,” he said quietly.“No nightmares at all. You’d be surprised how well you sleep when you don’t dream about the people you love getting murdered in front of your eyes.I think having you in bed helps.”

Yuuri blushed a little as well, and covered his face with his hands.“I’m sure it’s not me specifically,” he hedged.“Probably just… having someone?”

Viktor shook his head.“No, I’m sure it’s you,” he said.“Yuki, you’re a very… steadying presence.I don’t know exactly what it is, but something about you is calming, reassuring.I feel safer when you’re sleeping next to me.”

Yuuri blushed a little harder.He had been told in the past that his experience in Interpol had made him more of a reassuring presence, but it sounded far more believable coming from Viktor.“I’m glad I’m able to help,” he said softly.“I don’t want you to hurt, even if it’s just in dreams.”

Viktor smiled, cupping Yuuri’s face in his hands and kissing him on the tip of a nose.A giggle burst from Yuuri’s lips unbidden.“What was that for?” he asked.

Viktor just grinned.“Think of it as payment.”

Yuuri laughed.“If you say so.”Viktor left him to cook breakfast, and Yuuri showered, shaved, and dressed efficiently before heading out to find his boyfriend.He found Viktor settled at his kitchen table, frowning down at his phone as something good-smelling sizzled on the stove behind him.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Yuuri asked, and Viktor looked up sharply before smiling genuinely at him.

“Sorry, Yakov is being cryptic,” he said.“I asked him for the day off today so that I could show you around St. Petersburg, which he approved, but now he wants us both to come in to the rink as early as possible.I wonder what’s going on.”

Yuuri swallowed hard.He knew _exactly_ what was going on, but there was no way he could tell Viktor about it.It would be _far_ too suspicious if he already knew about Mikhailov’s murder before the police even released the information to the press.“I actually got an email like that as well, but I didn’t pay it much mind,” he said cautiously.“He probably just wants us to discuss training with him or something.”

Viktor shrugged.“I guess that makes sense.”He got to his feet, wandering to the stove.

Yuuri followed looking over his shoulder.“What are you making?” he asked.“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’ve got it,” Viktor said.“I might not be a gourmet chef, but I can definitely cook breakfast for my boyfriend.”He pressed a kiss to Yuuri’s cheek to show that he was kidding, and then added, “I thought that since this is your first full day living in Russia, I’d make you a proper Russian breakfast.I’m making blini for you.”

Yuuri leaned his head against Viktor’s shoulder, and Viktor slid an arm around his waist.“Thank you,” Yuuri murmured.Without looking, he could tell that Viktor was smiling.

“Of course, my Yuki,” he said.“I want you to be welcome here.”

Yuuri smiled at him.“I definitely feel welcome here, I promise,” he said.“Thank you.I really appreciate this.”

Viktor turned off the stove and took the breakfast off.“You don’t have to keep thanking me,” he promised in a teasing voice.“I’m not going to suddenly rescind every kindness I’ve given you.”

Yuuri had to chuckle at that.“I suppose that’s true,” he admitted.

Viktor reached past him to grab two plates from the cupboard, and quickly served them breakfast.As soon as Yuuri sat down at the table Viktor took his hand, lacing their fingers together.“Aren’t you going to eat?” Yuuri asked with a laugh.

Viktor grinned back.“I can manage with my left, just like I did last night.Yuki…”He paused, looked down.

“What is it?” Yuuri asked quietly.

Viktor looked up with an odd, wistful look in his eyes.“I’ve… I've wanted this for a long time,” he said.“I’ve wanted something like this for a long time.To wake up in bed with someone I lo- someone I _care deeply_ for, and this is just… perfect.So thank you.”

Yuuri’s heart broke a little for the hint of past loneliness in Viktor's voice, a loneliness that was deep and clearly dark.Even if he knew their relationship wouldn’t last, not after Viktor found out who he really was, he was glad to be able to relieve at least a little bit of that loneliness, at least for a little while. 

They ate in silence after that, just enjoying each other's company, and when they finished Yuuri helped Viktor clean the dishes.It didn't take long after that to get ready to leave, although neither of them brought practice gear with them, and before Yuuri knew it he was walking down the street to the St. Petersburg rink with Viktor by his side, their hands brushing every few seconds.

Yuuri bit his lip, but decided that it probably wasn't the best idea to take Viktor's hand, not in public, not in Russia.As if he read Yuuri's thoughts, without looking Viktor took Yuuri's hand and laced their fingers together before swinging their linked hands between them.Yuuri looked up at him in surprise, and Viktor smiled faintly.“Nothing to be ashamed of,” he murmured.

Yuuri carefully leaned his head against Viktor's shoulder.“I know.”

The rink was surprisingly close to Viktor's apartment, and it didn’t take them more than ten minutes to walk there.The doors were already unlocked when Yuuri tried them, and he was only mildly surprised to see a few other people already on the ice.“Practice starts pretty early some days,” Viktor murmured, holding the door for Yuuri before following him in.“I only start at seven on Mondays and Fridays, but I know that some of the others have more early practices.”

“Who’s here now?” Yuuri murmured, looking around.He had seen pictures of the St. Petersburg rink, of course- Interpol had provided him with a complete floor plan, and he had seen _plenty_ of photos during his childhood of idolizing Viktor Nikiforov- but no picture had been able to capture the size and atmosphere of the rink, so different from Yuuri’s temporary rink in Detroit or his past rinks in Japan.

“I think Mila and Georgi are here,”Viktor answered, his eyes scanning the rink.“And I wouldn't be surprised if Yura was skulking around here somewhere as well.”Viktor’s eyes lit up.“Ah!There's Yakov, we should go talk to him.”

Yuuri smiled and let Viktor lead him over to where the coach was standing by the boards of the rink, yelling instructions to a pretty red-haired girl working through a step sequence.“Good morning, Yakov!” Viktor said cheerfully, and then frowned when Yakov turned to face them.

Yuuri winced.Yakov looked haggard, exhausted, beaten down.He looked like he had aged a decade in a night.When she noticed Viktor and Yuuri standing by the boards, the skater out on the ice made her way over with a wide grin.

“Viktor!” she said in Russian, grinning brightly.“Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”

Viktor gave her a long look, and then gently pulled Yuuri to his side.“Yuki,” he said in English.“This is Mila Babicheva, one of my rink mates.Mila, this is Nakamura Yuki, my _boyfriend_.”

Mila grinned at Yuuri, and then stuck out a hand.“A pleasure to meet you,” she said.

“Vitya, can I talk to you a moment?” Yakov said, looking between Yuuri and Viktor.Viktor frowned, but nodded and let Yakov lead him a little ways away.

“So where are you from?” Mila asked with a friendly smile, even as Yuuri tried to position himself so he would be able to see Viktor.

“Um, I’m Japanese,” Yuuri murmured in reply.Out of the corner of his eye he could see Yakov speaking to Viktor in a low voice, every line of his body taut.Yuuri’s stomach churned guiltily when he saw Viktor put a horrified hand to his mouth, eyes welling with tears.He knew exactly what Yakov was saying.

“Do you speak any Russian? Mila asked, and Yuuri forced his full attention back to her.

“Not much more than a few basic phrases,” Yuuri replied.“I’m sure I’ll pick some up.”

Mila winked at him.“I’m sure Viktor would be more than happy to teach you some Russian,” she said.

Yuuri smiled back.“I hope so,” he replied.

They fell silent for a moment, until Yakov called, “Nakamura, can I see you in my office? I want to discuss training.”

“It was lovely to meet you, Yuki, and I’m sure we’ll all be seeing more of you,” Mila said with a smile.

Yuuri inclined his head before turning away.Viktor caught his arm before he could catch up to Yakov, and Yuuri looked up at him worriedly.Viktor’s lips trembled, his eyes wet.“Are you OK?” Yuuri whispered.

Viktor opened his mouth, closed it again.“Would you mind if we went back to the apartment when you’re done?” he finally murmured, and Yuuri nodded quickly.

“Of course,” he replied.“Do you need to leave now?”

Viktor shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line.“Go ahead,” he said, his voice stiff.

Yuuri nodded, giving Viktor a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying after Yakov.Neither man spoke until they had reached Yakov’s office and the door had been closed, but then Yakov sat at his desk and sighed deeply.

“You’ve heard, I assume?” he said tiredly.

Yuuri nodded.“I’ve heard,” he murmured.“Minako emailed me the preliminary police reports this morning.”

Yakov ran both hands over his face, sighing deeply.“This is my fault,” he muttered.“If I had done more-”

“There was no way of knowing what was going to happen,” Yuuri interrupted firmly.He knew more than anyone what a spiral of guilt and blame could do to someone’s mind, and they didn’t have the time for that if they were going to stop anyone else from dying.

Yuuri dropped down into the chair across from Yakov and said seriously, “Based on the messages left at the crime scene, Markov knows at least that someone from the authorities is watching over Viktor.Worst case scenario, he knows exactly who _I_ am and why I’m here.”He chewed his lip, thinking.“Interpol already suspected that someone close to Viktor was involved with Markov, but I would say that this could very well confirm it.Someone who knows that I was coming to Russia is in on this.Mikhailov’s death was a warning to me.”

Yakov pinched the bridge of his nose.“I wouldn’t be surprised,” he whispered.“The people we’re dealing with… they could very well be willing to kill indiscriminately.”

Yuuri nodded.“As much as I hate to admit it, you could be right,” he said.“After this, Interpol may have to reassess the threat to Viktor.”

Yakov nodded slowly.“Is there anything I can do to help the investigation?”

Yuuri shook his head, mind racing.“It would probably be best if you stayed out of it,” he said.“To keep you safe.”

Yakov shrugged.“Alright.”He gave Yuuri a critical look. “I hope you know that I expect you to keep Viktor safe,” he said.

Yuuri nodded.“I expect that as well,” he replied.

Yakov looked down, struggle clear in his frame.“Then please stay with him,” he murmured.Yuuri nodded, taking that for the dismissal it was, and then left the office quickly.

Viktor was lingering by the door of the rink, looking more than a little uncomfortable.“Hey,” Yuuri said softly, taking his hand.“Ready to go?”

Viktor nodded, looking up to meet Yuuri’s eyes.The raw fear in them made his heart ache.That fear didn’t go away until they had reached Viktor’s apartment, and even then it took Viktor locking the door and pulling the shades before the uneasiness in his shoulders relaxed a little.

“Did Yakov tell you?” Viktor murmured, sitting down on the coach.

“About the hockey player?” Yuuri replied at a similar volume, sitting down next to his boyfriend.

Viktor nodded.“He was there when I found the first threat, you know,” he said hollowly.“We weren’t very close, but we were friends.”

“Oh, Viktor,” Yuuri murmured, reaching out to take Viktor’s hand again.

“This is my fault,” Viktor whispered, his voice broken.“God, this is _all my fault_.Someone is dead because of _me._ ”

“Shh, that’s not necessarily true,” Yuuri whispered, gathering Viktor into his arms.“You have no way of knowing that.”

“I don’t need to,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri heard his breath catch before he started to sob, his face pressed against Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri opened his mouth again, and then closed it.He wanted to tell Viktor that it wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing he could have done, but he _couldn’t_.

All he could do was hold Viktor as he cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR VIOLENCE: A minor character is killed, and the crime scene is described in moderate detail.
> 
> Я думаю, что я тебя люблю = "I think I love you." (Please correct me if I'm wrong!)
> 
> My goal is to have the next chapter out on or around June 30th, but between my exams next week and the finalization and posting of my reverse bang project that date may shift a day in one direction or the other, we'll see. Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	19. Enough to Warrant Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor finds love, Yuki finds a home, and Interpol finds evidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~i could also call this chapter ellipsis, because i use way too many of them here~~  
> 
> I've been waiting for this chapter for a long time, you have no idea... Anyway! Yes. The chapter ;D
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Time slipped by like ice beneath Viktor’s skates.

In the beginning Viktor had helped Yuki make some weak attempts to find an apartment in the city, but if he was being honest he didn’t really _want_ Yuki to move out.Even with some scattered bad days, Viktor was happier than he had been in a long time, and he was sure it had everything to do with his boyfriend.There was something unspeakably lovely about waking up every morning to find Yuki in bed next to him, eating meals with his lover, training hard together in the same rink all day, and then come home to fall asleep in one another’s arms.

If the threat of imminent doom resulting from his failure to quit figure skating hadn’t been hanging over Viktor’s head, everything would have been perfect.

Yuki had looked for an apartment as well, a little bit harder than Viktor had helped him, but in all honesty Viktor believed that Yuki didn’t really mind staying with him.

They fell into a pattern, living together- despite his frequent protests Yuki was usually the first one up, and he showered first and then made breakfast.In return, Viktor would usually make dinner, as Yuki was usually more tired after practice than Viktor was.

The months passed quickly, both Russian and Japanese Nationals going without a hitch,both Viktor and Yuki winning gold at their respective events.Viktor even convinced Yakov to give him a few days off to go to Four Continents in Taipei, in time to watch Yuki win a bronze on the world stage.

And every day that passed, Viktor fell further and further in love with Yuki.It was getting harder every day to resist the impulse to tell him so- every time Yuki smiled, or laughed, or held Viktor’s hand and kissed him on their walk home from practice, the words were on the tip of his tongue. _I love you.Ya lyublyu tebya.Ai shiteru yo._ He wanted to tell Yuki how he felt, desperately.But he couldn’t… not yet.Not for fear of scaring his boyfriend away.

He couldn’t lose Yuki, not now… not after Yuki trusted him enough to stay with him, and even live with him, after finding out the danger that Viktor could pose to him…He didn’t want to go back to the way things had been, no after knowing what it felt like to stay close to the one he loved.He wasn’t sure he would be able to bear it. So he was stuck in limbo, just a bit… and as the World Championships crept ever closer and training intensified, Viktor’s longing also grew.

“Viktor, you know I’m sympathetic,” Georgi said in a low voice as the two men stood on the side of the rink during their break.Out on the ice, Yuki glided through a serene step sequence, his eyes closed and his hands behind his back.

Viktor sighed, leaning his chin against his hands.

“You should just tell him,” Georgi advised, and Viktor looked up at him.His friend had listened patiently as Viktor had spilled his guts, his worries and fears about his relationship, but Viktor could tell that even Georgi was getting tired of hearing about it.

“I know,” Viktor sighed, pressing his finger to his lips.“But at the same time… what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

At his side, Georgi flinched slightly, and Viktor kicked himself internally.Anya had broken up with Georgi after he had told her that he loved her.Georgi sighed quietly.“Vitya,” he said.“I’ll admit that I obviously don’t know the intricacies of your relationship with Nakamura as well as you do, nor would I want to know, but from what I’ve observed it seems like he cared about you just as much as you care about him.Use your best judgement, of course, but what if… what if he loves you too, and he’s just s afraid as you are to say it?”

“You think so?” Viktor asked thoughtfully, scratching at his chin.Out of the corner of his eye he could see Yakov glaring at them, but the coach hadn’t yet yelled at them to return to practice so Viktor figured they had a few more minutes.

Georgi huffed out a short, harried breath, studying him.“I think there’s no way you’ll ever know how he feels, unless you talk to him about it,” he said.

Viktor sighed pensively, gazing out at Yuki in the center of the ice as his boyfriend transitioned into a beautiful spread eagle.“I guess that’s true,” he replied.He ran his fingers through his bangs before flicking them out of his eyes.“I’ll talk to him tonight, I guess.”

Georgi grinned, slapping him on the back.“There you go,” he said approvingly.“Making adult decisions.For once in your life.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.“Harsh,” he said mildly.

Georgi chuckled, leaning against the boards again and staring out at Yuki in the center of the ice.“Good luck,” he said more solemnly.“I sincerely hope, for your sake, that he feels the same.”

Viktor smiled a little tremulously.“I hope so too,” he agreed.

Out on the ice, Yuki finished his routine and then turned to face Viktor and Georgi.“Did I look alright?” he said worriedly, probably seeing Viktor’s serious expression.

Viktor gave his boyfriend a beaming smile.“You looked wonderful, my Yuki!” he called.“Your edges were the cleanest I’ve seen them!” Yuki smiled back, skating their direction.

“Vitya, Gosha, break time is over,” Yakov barked.

Viktor let Georgi back on the ice ahead of him, lingering by the boards as Yuki got off, mopping at his face with his sleeve.Viktor kissed him, and Yuki smiled when they parted.“You looked lovely,” Viktor murmured, pushing some of Yuki’s sweaty hair out of his face.Even exhausted after a day of practice, his boyfriend looked _beautiful._

Yuki, predictably, blushed.“Thank you, Viktor,” he replied.

“I’ll meet you back at the apartment?” Viktor said hopefully, and Yuki nodded.

“I can get dinner started if you like,” he replied.

Viktor shook his head, kissing him again.“Don’t worry about it, I know you’ll be tired,” he said.“We can order in tonight, if you like?”

Yuki smiled.“That sounds good,” he agreed, and then squeezed Viktor’s hand.“I’ll let you get back to practice.”

He kissed Viktor on the cheek.“See you back home.” 

Viktor waved, smiling fondly at his boyfriend’s back as he left.It was only after Yuki left that it hit Viktor- Nakamura Yuki, Viktor’s boyfriend and quite possibly the love of his life, had called the apartment _home_. Viktor clutched at his chest, a wide grin on his face, and then sped out to the center of the ice to skate.

The next few hours of practice passed in a giddy blur, and when Viktor was dismissed by Yakov he wasted no time in changing and hurrying home. _Home_ , to Yuki.

Even before he unlocked the door to his apartment Viktor could see light coming from under the crack in the door, smell something cooking despite their plan to order in, and hear faintly the sound of someone talking.His apartment was so much brighter, so much warmer, with Yuki there.This was _so much better_ than coming home to a cold, empty apartment with only Makkachin to keep him company.

Viktor smiled when his Makka greeted him at the door, jumping on him as soon as he stepped inside, and hung up his coat as he hummed happily under his breath.In the kitchen he could hear Yuki puttering around, clearly talking on the phone to someone.As Viktor bent over to pull off his shoes, he heard Yuki say in English, probably speaking to Phichit, “I really, really want to tell him.But I think I know what he’ll say.”

Viktor paused curiously, listening.

Yuki was quiet for another moment, and then sighed heavily.“I know,” he said quietly, so quiet that Viktor almost missed it.“But… I _want_ to tell him.I owe that much to him, at least.He is letting me stay, after all.”

Viktor silently set his shoes in their place by the door and then straightened.Yuki must be talking about him.He walked quietly towards the kitchen, still out of view, not _exactly_ sneaking but not going out of his way to make sure Yuki heard him, just in time to hear Yuki say, “I… I think I’m going to tell him tonight.He deserves to know the truth.And… And I’ll let you know if I still have a place to stay after.”He sighed again, quieter.“Thanks.”

Makkachin trotted past Viktor, her tags jingling, and Yuki said, “Hey, Makka-chan.Wait, is…”He paused.“Viktor, are you home?”

Viktor winced, and then took a few steps back closer to the front door before calling out, “Yep, I just got back!”

“Oh, I didn’t hear you come in,” Yuki said with a laugh in his voice, and then said a little quieter, as Viktor entered the kitchen, “I’ll talk to you later, Phichit.It was nice to catch up.”He hung up, and then set his phone on the table and gave Viktor a smile.“I got dinner started,” he said.“Sorry, I know you said we could order out, but I couldn’t find any menus and I was getting really hungry.”

Viktor smiled, stepping across the kitchen to cup Yuki’s face in his hands before kissing him.“I don’t mind,” he promised, and Yuki smiled before kissing him back.

“I’m glad.”

Viktor gently stroked his thumb over Yuki’s cheek, and then murmured, “You called the apartment home.”

Yuki’s eyes widened, and he blushed.“Oh, um, I-”

“I like it,” Viktor said, and then mustered up a deep breath.“Um. Yuki.There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Yuki bit his lip, his expression growing serious.“There’s actually something I want to talk to you about as well,” he said quietly.

Viktor kissed him gently, and then said, “Do you want to go first?” 

Yuki swallowed, something almost like fear sparking in his eyes.“No, you can go,” he said.

Viktor took a deep breath, eyes on his boyfriend.This was it.The moment of truth.

Viktor licked his lips nervously, and then said, “I… I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

***

Yuuri called Phichit as soon as he got home from practice.It had been a long day at the rink, made even longer by the email from Minako that he had received earlier that morning- that Interpol was very quickly closing in on the people threatening Viktor.

Phichit picked up the phone on the third ring, with a distracted hum.“Hey, Yuki, just a sec,” he said.

“Alright,” Yuuri replied, settling himself on the couch in Viktor’s apartment.Viktor probably wouldn’t be back for another half an hour- his ice time lasted longer than Yuuri’s cross training.

“Alright, sorry, I’m alone,” Phichit said a moment later.The quality of his voice sounded different, like he had switched rooms.

“No problem,” Yuuri said, smiling slightly in spite of himself.

“It’s nice to talk to you again,” Phichit said, and Yuuri could hear him smiling as well.

Yuuri winced a little guiltily.He hadn’t spoken to Phichit in a few weeks.“Sorry,” he murmured.

Phichit quickly said, “That wasn’t meant to be passive aggressive.Although…” He trailed off teasingly, and then said, “The apartment is a lot quieter without you.And there are a lot fewer posters of your boyfriend, it’s odd after getting used to them.”

Yuuri snorted.“Sure.”He sobered.“How up to date are you on the case?”

“Probably behind,” Phichit admitted.“Interpol sent me a bunch of questions about a bunch of different skaters, but I have no idea which were red herrings and who they actually suspect.”

“Minako emailed me earlier,” Yuuri said quietly.“She said that Interpol has gathered enough evidence to make an arrest before Worlds, hopefully.But she won’t tell me who it is, she says her superiors at Interpol want to ensure that I don’t act oddly around whoever the culpritis, for fear they’ll flee.Which indicates it’s someone I’ve met or will meet.”

“That’s kind of helpful, I guess,” Phichit said reluctantly.He was quiet a moment, and then added.“But that’s not why you called, is it?”

Yuuri cleared his throat awkwardly, and got to his feet, heading to the kitchen.He was thoughtfully quiet as he fiddled with the stove, and then said all at once, “I want to tell Viktor who I am.”

Phichit was clearly stunned, if his silence said anything.

Yuuri swallowed hard, filling a pot with water and putting it on the hot stove.  Viktor had said they would order in for dinner, but he needed something,  _anything_ , to do.

“Who you are?” Phichit said dumbly.“You mean… like… who you work for?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri murmured.“I… Phichit, I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, no, Yuuri,” Phichit whispered.

Yuuri licked his lips, staring down at the water in the pot that refused to boil.“I think I’m falling for him,” he said.“I knew I liked him, but I think I’m actually…falling in love.And he doesn’t even know my _name_.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit said sadly.“But aren’t you supposed to keep it a secret?”

“I am,” Yuuri sighed.“But… it might help with the case?If he knew who I am, who I work for?And I know he can keep a secret, when he needs to.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Yuuri,” Phichit said dubiously.

“I really, really want to tell him.But I think I know what he’ll say,” Yuuri said.He closed his eyes.He could already imagine the hurt on Viktor’s face, the betrayal.But somehow, it was _so much worse_ to keep lying to him.

“He’s not going to be happy,” Phichit said softly.“He might hate you.”

Yuuri exhaled sharply at that, chest tightening.“I know,” he whispered.“But… I _want_ to tell him.I owe that much to him, at least.He is letting me stay, after all.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Phichit said.“But I’ll support you if that’s really what you need to do.And please tell me if he kicks you out.”

“I… I think I’m going to tell him tonight,” Yuuri said, screwing up his courage.“He deserves to know the truth.And… And I’ll let you know if I still have a place to stay after.”He pressed one hand to his mouth, staring down at the water.It had started to boil, without him noticing.Yuuri fumbled in the cupboard without looking, and then poured in some whole grain pasta.

“Thanks,” he said to Phichit, almost as an afterthought.From the living room, he heard Makkachin’s tags jingling, and he thought he heard soft footsteps as well.Makkachin gamboled into the kitchen, and sat at Yuuri’s feet with her tongue lolling out of her mouth.

“Hey, Makka-chan,” Yuuri said with a small smile, and then looked up at the kitchen doorway.Technically, he couldn’t see the front door…“Wait, is… Viktor, are you home?”

“Yep, I just got back!”Viktor called from the entrance, and Yuuri heard him fumbling around. 

“Oh, I didn’t hear you come in,” Yuuri said cheerfully, hoping his voice didn’t crack, and then said to Phichit as Viktor came into the kitchen, “I’ll talk to you later, Phichit.It was nice to catch up.”

“Good luck, Yuuri,” Phichit said worriedly, and hung up.

Yuuri set his phone down with trembling fingers, and then gave Viktor a shaky smile.“I got dinner started,” he said.“Sorry, I know you said we could order out, but I couldn’t find any menus and I was getting really hungry.”He glanced over his shoulder at the boiling pasta.

Viktor grinned, and took one large step across the kitchen floor before kissing Yuuri.“I don’t mind,” he said happily, and Yuuri kissed him again.

“I’m glad,” he muttered.

Viktor stroked his thumb over Yuki’s cheek, a gesture that made his heart ache, and then murmured, “You called the apartment home.”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.“Oh, um, I-”

“I like it,” Viktor interrupted, and then something in his expression changed.“Um. Yuki.There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Yuuri took a trembling breath, and replied, “There’s actually something I want to talk to you about as well.”

Viktor kissed him, and then said, “Do you want to go first?” 

Yuuri swallowed back the sick taste in his mouth, and mumbled, “No, you can go.”

Viktor inhaled slowly, licked his lips, and then said, “I… I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Yuuri stared at him.“You… you…” he stammered.

Viktor cleared his throat nervously.“I… I’ve been thinking about it a while,” he said.“And having you here, I know that I… I love you.I’m in love with you.That’s what I wanted to tell you.”His eyes widened, and he added hastily, “Of course, I completely understand if you don’t feel the same-!”

“I love you, too,” Yuuri blurted, and then blushed.

“You… you do?” Viktor whispered, hope shining in his eyes.

Yuuri nodded, his heart sick.“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about as well,” he lied, meeting Viktor’s eyes.“But I was… afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.I was afraid that you… that I would scare you away.”

“My Yuki,” Viktor breathed, and in that moment Yuuri violently hated the name Nakamura Yuki.He would give the world to hear Viktor say his real name.

But now… now he had lost his chance.

The moment was gone.

“My Yuki,” Viktor whispered again, in wonderment.His hands came up to cup Yuuri’s face against, and he said, “I love you.And… and you love me.”

Yuuri’s eyes filled with tears, and he smiled to pretend they were happy.“I love you,” he repeated.The one thing he could say to Viktor that was true, that wasn’t a lie.

The one thing that would _never_ be a lie.

Viktor kissed Yuuri, kissed Yuki, his lips hot and eager, his body pressed against Yuuri’s.Yuuri kissed back just as desperately, just as needy.He tasted salt.

“Yuki, Yuki,” Viktor whispered, his face pink, his lips wet, his eyes shining.“Turn off the stove, please.”

Yuuri reached over without looking and turned off the stove as Viktor kissed him again.He slid one hand up the back of Viktor’s shirt, palm splayed on Viktor’s back, and Viktor gasped into his mouth.“Bed?” he whispered, and then added, “I want to make love to you.”

Yuuri nodded, clutching at Viktor“I want that too,” he said.It wouldn’t be the first time, but now that _love_ was involved… it felt different.

Viktor held Yuuri close, and they stumbled towards the bedroom, still kissing.The door closed behind them, and Viktor cupped the back of Yuuri’s head as they fell onto the bed, kissing.

“Do you…?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri nodded, looking up at his love.

“I trust you,” he said, and he did.

He trusted Viktor with his body, his heart, his love.

If only he could tell him his name.

***

Yuuri was still sleepy when he and Viktor arrived at the rink the next morning, but that didn’t stop him from noticing the man who was following them.

When they reached the rink Yuuri faked a stumble at the end of the hall near the locker room, and then knelt down. “Go ahead,” he told Viktor, pretending to fiddle with his shoe laces.“I’ll be there in a moment.”

Viktor gave Yuuri a searching look, and then shrugged.“Alright, if you say so,” he replied, and disappeared into the locker room.

Yuuri got to his feet and turned slowly, facing the man who had been following them since Viktor’s apartment.The man was tall, and looked a good several pounds heavier than Yuuri, his face partially concealed by his hat.“Can I help you?” Yuuri said very cautiously, fingers twitching, ready to curl into fists if necessary.

The man casually flashed an Interpol badge, half hidden behind his hand so no one else could see it, and then got closer when Yuuri relaxed.Yuuri carefully held out a hand, and the badge was handed to him so he could examine it more closely.

“Agent Katsuki,” the man said in a low voice, adjusting the brim of his hat.He was disguised as a janitor, in the same uniform that many of the employees at the rink wore.If he hadn’t approached Yuuri and flashed his badge, and if Yuuri hadn’t noticed the glint of a gun in a holster, he never would have known that the other man was an agent like him. Only that he was suspicious.

“Agent… Sokolov?” Yuuri said uncertainly, and the man nodded.

“I’m with the Russian branch of Interpol,” he murmured.“We’re working in tandem with Okukawa.Interpol plans to make an arrest today.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened slightly.“You know who it is, for sure?” he whispered.

Sokolov nodded.“Within reason,” he confirmed.“Interpol has collected overwhelming proof as to the identity of the culprit.”

“Who is it?” Yuuri whispered.

Sokolov pressed his lips together.“I’m sorry, I’m under instructions not to share that with you,” he said.“We need to catch him red handed, so to speak.But Okukawa wanted to warn you, in case something happens and you need to protect Viktor.”

Yuuri nodded seriously.“I understand,” he said.“I will do everything in my power to assist you.How many other agents are here?”

Sokolov hesitated, and Yuuri grimaced.“Not allowed to tell me?”

“It is of the utmost importance that we keep the existence of this operation under wraps until the culprit has been apprehended,” he said.“The only people who have been informed are Yakov Feltsman and yourself.”

Yuuri nodded.“I’ll stay close to Viktor all day,” he promised.“I hope this goes well, without any serious problems.”

“So do I,” Sokolov murmured, troubled.

“Yuki?” Viktor called from behind them, and Yuuri turned to see his boyfriend hanging out of the locker room.“Is everything alright?”

“Go ahead,” Sokolov murmured, tipping his hat before walking away.

“Sorry,” Yuuri apologized, making his way over to Viktor.“I got a little distracted.”

Viktor gave him a small, bemused frown.“Do you know him?” he asked.

Yuuri shook his head.“He was just warning me that… one of the shower heads in the locker room is broken?Already burned two people.”

The confusion in Viktor’s expression cleared.“Alright, I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he said.“Which one?”

“Um, the one farthest in?” Yuuri hedged, hoping against hope that no one was currently using the shower he was talking about.

Viktor nodded sagely, glancing over his shoulder as Yuuri reached him.“That explains why it’s empty.”

Yuuri distracted him with a kiss, hoping that Viktor would drop the matter.Viktor smiled against his lips, kissing him back.“Hello,” he said, pleased, when they parted.

“I… I love you,” Yuuri said, just a little uncertainly, and Viktor beamed at him.

“I love you too, my Yuki,” he replied, cupping Yuuri face between both hands before kissing him in return.

Yuuri smiled to hide his inner turmoil.He loved Viktor- he _did_ \- but it was so goddamn hard to lie to him.Even harder than normal, knowing that he had been so close to telling Viktor the truth, that after Interpol made their arrest Viktor would likely find out who Yuuri was.And then he would know just how much Yuuri had been lying to him.

“Come and get changed, darling,” Viktor said, opening the locker room door to let Yuuri in.Yuuri smiled, giving Viktor another kiss as he passed.

Georgi was already in the locker room, back facing Yuuri as he changed his shirt, but he turned when the locker room door closed.“Morning, Nakamura,” he said, just a bit gruffly.

Yuuri smiled tentatively.Georgi didn’t seem to like him quite as much as some of the others did, sometimes, which didn’t exactly bother him… it just made him wonder exactly what he had done to insult the older man.

Viktor bent over to unzip his bag, and then pulled out a change of clothes before opening his locker and stuffing his bag inside.Yuuri did his utmost not to stare as Viktor pulled his shirt off, and then leaned against the lockers.

“How are you feeling today, Yuki?” he asked with almost a teasing lilt in his voice.Yuuri looked up, eyes wide.Surely Viktor couldn’t be implying what Yuuri thought he was-But Viktor’s smirk said it all.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said warningly, fighting a smile.

Viktor's sly smile grew, and he scratched absently at the faint love bite Yuuri had left on his neck the night before.  

”I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Yuuri mumbled, blushing, as he dug through his own bag.

Across the room, Georgi made a sound like a snort.

Viktor hummed, looking satisfied, and then changed his pants and pulled on a training shirt.Still furiously blushing, Yuuri did the same.They left the locker room a little bit before Georgi, who was still huddled in front of his locker staring down at his phone, and stretched out before getting on the ice.

Technically Viktor was supposed to be running through his programs while Yuuri fine tuned his free program step sequences, but Yuuri couldn’t find it in himself to object when Viktor swept him into a spin on the ice.

“What are you doing?” Yuuri laughed, clinging to Viktor’s biceps as the other man slid them across the ice.

“We’re dancing,” Viktor told him, and Yuuri laughed again.

“Viktor, we’re not ice dancers,” he said.

Viktor just smiled, his hands on Yuuri’s waist as they spun.“I’m really happy, Yuki,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s even as they slowed.“I’m really happy you love me.”

Yuuri blushed a little, and leaned up to kiss him.“I’m happy you love me too,” he replied.“I’m lucky to have you.”

Viktor kissed him back, and ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.Yuuri smiled against his boyfriend’s lips, filled with light. For the first time in a while, he felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders, just a bit.

Viktor loved him.

And Yuuri loved Viktor.

And Interpol was going to make an arrest, to put a stop to the people who might want to hurt them.

And he was sure Viktor would be mad at him for lying, would be hurt, but he had to understand.

They would get through this.They would have to.

Out of the corner of his eye Yuuri noticed Georgi take to the ice, calling something out in a cheerful voice to Mila by the side of the rink, but paid them no mind.

“Mm, I love you so much,” Viktor whispered against his lips, his breath warm, and Yuuri clutched him against as Viktor pushed them backwards so they were skating slowly as they kissed.Love and hope rose in Yuuri’s chest.In that moment nothing existed to him but Viktor, they were alone but for the ice under their skates and the warm mid morning light streaming in through the windows of the rink.

“Hey, losers!” came an angry shout from across the rink, and the moment shattered.Viktor broke the kiss with a quiet sigh only Yuuri could hear, and turned.Yuuri followed his gaze to see Yuri Plisetsky standing at the entrance to the ice, his fists clenched even as he crossed his arms.

“Good morning to you, too, Yura,” Viktor called back in cheerful Russian, and then reached out to take Yuuri’s hand.He gave Yuuri a small smile before switching to English to say, “How can we help you?”

“Do you have to do that on the ice?” Yuri complained in distaste, butYuuri was sure that even Viktor could tell the displeasure was mostly feigned.

“Do what?” Yuuri said innocently, smiling at Yuri.

The teenager scowled at him.“You two aren’t fucking pair skaters,” he snapped.

Viktor chuckled, pulling Yuuri with him as he approached the boards.“Not now, sure.”

Yuuri looked at him in surprise, and Viktor just winked.Yuuri smiled slightly. “Yet?” Yuri said furiously.

Sensing conflict, Mila skated across the rink in record time.“What’s yet?” she asked, and gave Yuuri a bright smile.“Hi, Yuki!”

"I’m here too,” Viktor said, clearly mostly joking.

“I see you every day,” Mila replied, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.  She turned to grin at Yuri.“What’s got you so angry this early, kitten?” she asked in Russian.

Yuri spat something unintelligible at her, and Mila laughed.Georgi, clearly curious, wandered over as well.“Have any of you seen Yakov this morning?” he asked.

Yuuri paused, thinking.“I thought his office light as on?” he said slowly.

Yuri shrugged, still clearly incensed but tamping it down.“How the fuck should I know?” he grumbled.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s around,” Viktor said airily.

“I can go look for him if you like,” Georgi said.“I’ve not put my skates on yet.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widened as a thought occurred to him.An Interpol agent had approached him, to inform him of the plan to arrest whoever was responsible for the threats to Viktor, someone who must be at the rink… so Yakov could very well be talking to Interpol representatives as well.It was entirely possible that he was getting briefed at that very moment.If so, it would be imperative to prevent Georgi from hearing anything… either to keep him from somehow unintentionally blowing the investigation, or fleeing if he was somehow the culprit.

“Ah, I’m sure he’s fine,” he said quickly.“I’m sure he’ll come soon.He’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

Georgi shrugged.“I guess that's probably true.”

Viktor smiled a little bitterly, slipping an arm around Yuuri’s waist and pulling him against his side.“Or maybe he got drunk again,” he said in Russian.“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Georgi snorted, his gaze sliding to Yuri and Mila.“He didn’t call for any money, though.”

“He’s not _you_ , Viktor,” Mila added with a grin.“You’re the drunkard in the rink.”

Viktor rolled his eyes.“It was once.”

Yuri snorted.“ _Once_ ,” he repeated scornfully.

Yuuri looked between them, trying to hold a confused expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Yuki,” Mila said in English, giving him a sheepish smile.“I always forget you don’t speak much Russian, you fit in so well here.”

Yuuri cleared his throat, and smiled slightly.“Thank you, Mila,” he replied shyly.

“I’ve been teaching him some Russian!” Viktor exclaimed, hanging off of Yuuri in his excitement.“Show them, my love!”

Yuuri looked up at him as if unsure, and then in the thickest accent he could muster, “My boyfriend has taught me Russian.”He blinked, widening his eyes slightly, and then added in English, “Is that right?He didn’t teach me anything dirty, did he?”

Mila smiled at him.“No, it sounded very good,” she replied, and then added in rapid fire Russian to the skater hanging off of him, “I’m surprised you didn't teach him how to say husband, Viktor, that’s what you practically are.”

Yuri Plisetsky choked, and looked at Yuuri in panic. Georgi covered his mouth with one hand, eyebrows raised.

Viktor smiled innocently.“Not quite there yet,” he replied in a lilting voice, hugging Yuuri from behind.“Maybe someday, but not yet.”

Yuuri struggled to keep the shock off of his face.He knew Viktor had loved him, and he knew he loved Viktor, but he had forgotten the fact that sometimes people who loved each other got married.But he and Viktor had only just confessed their love for each other… and Viktor didn’t even know who Yuuri was!Was marriage really a possibility?

“You shouldn’t talk about things like that when he can’t understand you,” Yuri said pointedly, speaking to Viktor but glaring at Yuuri.Yuuri gulped.Right.He wasn’t supposed to know how to speak Russian, and Yuri Plisetsky was the only one who knew that his confusion was a lie.

“It… it is a little bit rude,” Georgi added uncertainly, his eyes wide.He, too, stared at Yuuri, almost as if… he knew.

“I suppose that’s right,” Viktor sighed, and then switched back to English to say, “I’m sorry, my Yuki.”

Yuuri forced a smile, absolutely sure his surprise was going to give him away.“Don’t worry about it, Viktor,” he replied.“I’ll just have to get my revenge by speaking Japanese around you.”

Viktor gasped in mock affront.“How rude!” he exclaimed.“My own boyfriend, using my lack of knowledge about the Japanese language against me?”

“Ai shiteru yo,” Yuuri said matter-of-factly, and Viktor grinned.

“I do know that one,” he teased.

“What’s it mean?” Yuri asked, his arms still crossed but far less tension in his frame.Even after several months of recovery following his broken ribs, there was still something almost delicate in the way he moved sometimes.

“It means _I love you_ ,” Viktor said smugly, and Yuri scowled.

“You two are gross,” he snapped.“Almost as gross as Georgi is.I’m going to find Yakov.”

“You don’t need to find me,” Yakov said from the doorway.He sounded exhausted.“I’m right here.”

“Thank fucking god,” Yuri complained, shoving his way past Viktor and Yuuri to get on the ice.“It’s about time.”

Viktor gave Yuuri one last kiss, and then released him from his hug.“I’ll let you practice, my dear,” he said affectionately, running his fingertips over the curve ofYuuri’s cheek.  ”Lunch, later?”

Yuuri nodded, and gave Viktor’s hand a squeeze before skating away.

He quickly fell into something almost like a trance, gradually warming up as he skated before transitioning into his practice proper.The other skaters of the St. Petersburg rink fell into their familiar patterns as well, Yuri furiously practicing quads while Mila spun and danced and Georgi stretched.Viktor started over by the boards, and Yuuri kept a close eye on his boyfriend even as he ran through the motions of training.

An hour elapsed, and then an hour and a half, before Yuuri noticed a disturbance across the rink.As Viktor ran through his short program in the center of the ice, Yakov spoke to two men in long coats.

Yuuri swallowed hard, pulse quickening.They must be the Interpol agents.The arrest was about to happen.

Yakov looked up, out across the rink, and even from far away Yuuri could see the utter anguish in his expression.Yuuri skated a little closer, looking away, so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious what he was doing.

In the center of the ice Viktor finished his short program with a flourish, and then called, “Yuki, did you see?”

Yuuri gave him a smile.“You looked really good, Viktor.”

Viktor smiled back, skating over backwards.“I was thinking of you,” he said, and Yuuri blushed.  

”You were thinking… of me?” he stammered.

Viktor grinned, sliding close enough to hug him.“It is Eros, after all,” he purred in Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri blushed harder.

Viktor paused, and then pulled away slightly.“Hey, what's going on with Yakov?” he said quietly.Yuuri glanced over his shoulder to see Yakov scowling at the two men with him, clearly arguing.Another man, dressed in a uniform Yuuri recognized as belonging to the St. Petersburg police force, entered the rink and said something to the three of them in a low voice, gesturing over his shoulder.One of the other men in Yakov’s company nodded, and the police officer left.As Yuuri watched, Yakov seemed to deflate as soon as the officer disappeared, and then nodded.

“Gosha?” he called, his voice carrying across the rink despite the clear exhaustion in his voice.“Please come here.”He hesitated, and added, “Vitya too.”

Viktor blinked.“I’ll be right back,” he said, giving Yuuri a quick kiss, and then skated to the boards where Yakov was waiting.

Yuuri followed him at a bit of a difference, and Georgi sped up a little to catch up with him.“Nakamura,” he said in a low voice.“Do you know what this is about?”

Yuuri swallowed hard.Viktor had been called over, and Georgi.And Viktor obviously couldn’t be threatening himself… so _Georgi_ must be the culprit.

“I have no idea,” he lied, his voice hoarse.

Georgi frowned, something almost like fear in his eyes.“Katsuki, I-”

“Are you Georgi Popovich?” one of the men by Yakov said when Georgi and Yuuri were close enough.The other man, who Yuuri now recognized as Sokolov, had one hand hidden inside his coat.

“I am Georgi Popovich,” Georgi said a little uncertainly, coming to a stop next to Viktor.

“Please step off the ice, Gosha,” Yakov said in a soft voice, his eyes downcast.

Georgi frowned, but did as he was bid.“Do you have my skate guards?” he asked, and Yakov shook his head.

“Just take them off for a moment,” he ordered, his voice weak.

Georgi’s frown deepened.“That’s not good for them, I need to clean off the blades-” he started, but the Interpol agent with Sokolov interrupted.

“Where you’ll be going, Mr. Popovich, you won’t need your skates,” he said.

Georgi blinked.“Excuse me?”

“Georgi Popovich,” Sokolov said seriously as the other man walked around Georgi and grabbed his wrists, quickly clicking on handcuffs.“You’re under arrest.”

Georgi stared at him open-mouthed.“Under… under arrest?” he stammered.“What for?What could I possibly have done?”

Sokolov pulled an arrest warrant out of his coat.“Threaten Viktor Nikiforov, for one,” he replied sharply.“Murder Ivan Mikhailov, for another.”

Georgi was speechless, and then shouted, “What!”

“You’re under arrest for repeatedly harassing and threatening Viktor Nikiforov, connections to the assaults on both Yuri Plisetsky and Yakov Feltsman, association with multiple Russian and international crime syndicates, intent to commit murder, and the murder of Ivan Mikhailov,” Sokolov said seriously.“With a warrant, your locker at this rink was searched, and the police found a gun with some trace evidence from Mikhailov’s apartment.”

Georgi inhaled, trembling.“I didn’t do any of that,” he said, sounding absolutely terrified.“Whatever you found in my locker, it’s _not_ mine.Please, you have to believe me!”

“Mr. Popovich,” Sokolov said.“We got a search warrant for your apartment as well, and found more than enough evidence to convict you.It would be best for everyone if you cooperated.”

“You have to believe me, Vitya,” Georgi begged, turning to face a stricken Viktor.“I didn’t do it.I’m innocent!”

“I…”Viktor trembled, and Yuuri tentatively put an arm around him.

“Viktor,” he murmured.

“I cannot _believe_ you,” Viktor whispered, pushing Yuuri away, his eyes on the man in handcuffs.“You threatened to kill my _dog_.And my _boyfriend._ ”

“Viktor, please,” Georgi said again, clearly on the verge of tears.

Yuuri looked away.He wished it didn’t have to end like this, with the death of a career, a friendship, and a reputation.But Georgi had broken the law.Even if he hadn’t done it completely willingly, for some reason, or if Markov had something to hold over him, he had broken the law.And now that he had been arrested, Viktor would be just a little safer.

“Yakov,” Georgi said, turning to his coach with tears in his eyes.“Please… you have to believe me!”

Yakov pressed his lips together.He stayed silent.

“Mr. Popovich,” Sokolov said quietly.

Georgi’s expression twisted, a horrible mixture of fear, grief, and fury.“None of you believe me,” he spat.“You all think so little of me?That I would _kill_ someone?”No one answered him, and Georgi said bitterly, “You’ll be sorry when you realize how wrong you are.”

He turned his eyes to Yuuri, suddenly furious.“This is your doing, isn’t it?”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but there was nothing he could say.Indirectly, Georgi’s arrest _was_ his fault.But Georgi had broken the law.Yuuri had to keep reminding himself of that fact.Unchecked, Georgi might have killed Viktor.And Yuuri would _never_ have been able to forgive himself if that happened.

“Georgi,” Viktor said, and something in his tone made Georgi pause.Viktor set his jaw, and placed a hand on Yuuri’s lower back.“Yuki has nothing to do with this.It’s best you go.”

Only Yuuri could feel Viktor trembling against him as Georgi was led away, handcuffed, his head bowed.

As soon as the two agents disappeared, Viktor practically collapsed against Yuuri, clinging to him.Yuuri held him tightly, making eye contact with Yakov over Viktor’s shoulder.

Yakov nodded before turning away, and Yuuri closed his eyes and buried his face in Viktor’s hair.

Now that Georgi had been arrested, maybe, just maybe, it was all finally over.

Maybe, just maybe, they were finally safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are (obviously) still some loose ends to tie up in this story ;)
> 
> My goal is to have the next chapter out on or around July 10th, if I don't combust with excitement before then ;D Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a lovely day, dear reader!


	20. Futures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor cries, Yuuri plans, and skaters arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [YALL I DIDN'T COMBUST WITH EXCITEMENT, BUT IT WAS A NEAR THING](http://yurionice-movie.com/en/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And this is the calm before the storm again, I suppose? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor decided to go home from practice a bit early that day, and to his eternal thankfulness Yuki came home with him.Viktor didn't cry immediately, but he did settle himself in bed and stare numbly at his phone as he scrolled sightlessly through his Instagram feed.

Yuki got in bed beside him after a few minutes, and rested his chin on Viktor's shoulder."Do you want any tea, or anything?” he murmured, and Viktor shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly.He suspected he was still in shock, just a little.

Yuki sighed a little, and when Viktor looked at him out of the corner of his eye he could tell that his boyfriend was worried about him.“Viktor,” Yuki said quietly.“Do you… do you want to talk about it, at all?”

Viktor rubbed at his eyes.“I don’t know,” he said.“I don’t… I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Yuki said gently.“I understand.I’m here, if and when you want to talk.”

Viktor nodded, words on the tip of his tongue.Yuki leaned against him, one hand resting on Viktor’s arm.

“I didn’t think it would be him,” Viktor suddenly admitted in a low voice, and then closed his eyes tiredly.“I guess, when I thought about the people threatening me… they were faceless, nameless.But now that I know the person responsible for all the fear I’ve felt in the past few months was someone I know, someone I trust… I don’t know what to think.”

Yuki pressed his lips together, and reached out tentatively before taking Viktor’s hand in his.“I know you’re betrayed,” he said gently.“But maybe there’s more to the story…After all, how long have you known Georgi?Maybe there was a mistake, or something-”

“There can’t be a mistake,” Viktor said, his voice hard.He looked down at Yuki’s fingers, laced with his, and then whispered, “There can’t be… the police wouldn’t have arrested him if there was.I’m sure of it.”He swallowed hard.“I have to believe that they wouldn’t make a mistake like that.I have to believe, if I want to keep myself from shattering.”

“Viktor?” Yuki said tentatively.“Maybe-”

Viktor cut him off with a sharp shake of his head.“Yuki, you don’t understand,” he said.“You didn’t see any of the threats, or at least, not any you could understand.The things that were written… the things that Georgi wrote…”His breath caught in his throat, and Viktor choked on a sob.

Yuki pressed his lips to Viktor’s forehead, and pulled him close.Viktor squeezed his eyes shut.The world went dark around him, Yuki’s arms around him the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“I can’t stand the thought that he would lie to me so,” Viktor whispered, trembling a little.“I know that you didn’t know him as well as I did, but he… he and I have known each other for a very long time.I trusted him.And he… he lied.”

Yuki sighed quietly, and ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair.“I know, darling,” he breathed.

“I have to believe that the police were right,” Viktor said.“Because if they weren’t… even if they weren’t… Georgi can’t ever come back, don’t you understand?” 

Yuki murmured low in his throat, the vibrations resonating against Viktor.“Even if he came back, nothing can erase the fact that he was accused of murder and we all believed it,” Viktor whispered.“You can’t come back from that.”

"I’m so sorry, Viktor,” Yuki whispered, his voice cracking.“I’m so, so sorry.”

Viktor bit his lip so hard it bled.“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he finally whispered.“I’m… I should be the one apologizing.You didn’t deserve getting dragged into all this.Yuki, I’m so sorry.For all of this.”

Yuki stifled a wet hiccup against the top of Viktor’s head, and for the first time Viktor realized his boyfriend was crying.

“You don’t have to apologize either,” Yuki said shakily.“You didn’t do anything, I-”He cut himself off, took a few deep breaths, and then said, “You… do you really think it was Georgi?For sure?Can you be certain?”

“The police said they had proof,” Viktor pointed out hollowly.

He felt like he wanted to cry, but no tears would come.He just felt empty, just as empty as he had been before meeting Yuki and falling in love.Except instead of feeling like he was missing something, he felt like a part if his heart, his lungs, had been torn away and tossed to the wind, leaving a gaping wound in its place. He hadn’t always been the closest with Georgi, sure, but their differences didn’t erase nearly twenty years of acquaintance and friendship. So this was what utter betrayal felt like.

“Proof,” Yuki echoed.“Right.I-”He cleared his throat.

“There will be a trial,” Viktor said thoughtfully.“I guess we’ll see all of the proof then.But probably not until after Worlds.Oh, _Worlds_.”

“Georgi’s not going to be able to compete,” Yuki said softly.

Viktor scoffed.“Of course not.And even if he was, his career…”He choked slightly, and Yuki’s arms tightened around him.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Yuki whispered, and Viktor stiffened as he fought back tears.He wasn’t going to cry.Georgi didn’t deserve his tears, not if he had done everything the police had accused him of. 

“It’s OK to cry, Viktor,” Yuki murmured, and Viktor exhaled slowly into Yuki’s shoulder.Yuki slowly ran a hand up and down Viktor’s spine, his touch oddly comforting.“It’s OK to be upset,” Yuki added.

Viktor let go, his body wracked with sobs.“Shh, there you go, it’s OK, I’ve got you,” Yuki whispered.

He held Viktor close, rubbing his back and whispering assurances in his ear, as Viktor cried.Viktor clung to Yuki, his fingers tangled in Yuki’s shirt, shaking, for about half an hour.When his sobs died off and his shaking lessened, Yuki kissed him on the top of the head.

“Do you feel a little better now?” he whispered, and Viktor shrugged.

“Crying hasn’t changed the fact that someone I trusted decided to threaten to kill me,” he said.“But… a little.Maybe.”

Yuki chuckled hollowly, and Viktor looked up at his boyfriend for the first time in a while.And for the first time Viktor noticed that Yuki’s eyes, too, were red rimmed, his cheeks a little damp.

Viktor shifted up on the bed so he was face to face with Yuki, and then whispered, “Why were you crying?”

Yuki smiled, but his lips trembled a little.Viktor reached up, gently sliding Yuki’s glasses off his face.

“I’m… I don’t know,” Yuki whispered, and Viktor knew in his heart that his boyfriend was lying to him.He cupped Yuki’s face with one hand, kissing him desperately.Yuki reciprocated after a moment, but not as enthusiastically as Viktor had expected.

“Not right now?” Viktor whispered when they parted, and Yuki blinked at him, his eyelashes clumped together a little.

“I didn’t think you would want to.”

“I didn’t… don’t, not now,” Viktor admitted.“But if you wanted…”

Yuki shook his head violently.“Never.Not if you don’t.”He sighed slowly, and traced his fingers over Viktor’s face before pushing his bangs out of his eyes.“Yakov might let you have the day off tomorrow,” he said quietly, and Viktor shrugged.

“I need to practice,” he said.“We’ve already missed half of today, and Worlds is in a week.We can’t afford to miss the practice time, not if we want to place well.”He hesitated, and then sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard. A moment later Yuki sat up as well, and Viktor slid an arm around his shoulders.

“Viktor, you… you shouldn’t push yourself, I think,” Yuki said hesitantly, and Viktor frowned.

“What do you mean?” he snapped.

Yuki flinched a little, and Viktor winced guiltily. “Yuki, I’m sorry, I-” he started, but Yuki shook his head.

“Viktor, you don’t have to apologize for anything,” he said.Viktor bit his lip.

Yuki reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together again.“Do you think maybe… you should rest?”he whispered.“Tomorrow, I mean.Viktor, you’re… you’ve been through a lot.I’m not saying you should stop, just… take the night off?Take the day off tomorrow?What happened today… I can tell it dealt you a huge blow.Maybe it would be best to take the time to let things sink in.And, um… stabilize yourself?Emotionally?”

Viktor swallowed hard.“I don’t know,” he said.“Maybe I could take the time but you… no offense, Yuki, but-Never mind, actually, I-”

“No, I know,” Yuki said.“I… I know I need a lot more work than you.That’s a virtue of our relative skill and experience.But I… I also know I’m not going to medal at Worlds.Probably not even top ten.I’m...I’m worried about you, Viktor.The way you look right now…”

Viktor smiled humorlessly, a rictus grin.“What do I look like?” he said.

“You look like a man who’s had his trust smashed,” Yuki said, bluntly honest.He hesitated, and then added in whispered Japanese, “そしてその信頼をもっと破壊する。ごめんなさい , Viktor.”

Viktor frowned.“What was that?”

Yuki grimaced.“It’s, um… not directly translatable?” he said hesitantly, his brow furrowed.“But it’s something like… I’m worried?Concerned?But in a more… um, romantic context?”

Viktor had to smile slightly at that.“Yuki, I love you,” he whispered, and was surprised to see tears well up in Yuki’s eyes.

“I- I love you too-” Yuki choked out, and Viktor hugged him.

"Please don’t cry, Yuki,” he whispered, cupping Yuki’s face in both hands and caressing Yuki’s cheeks with both thumbs.“I never know what to do.Should I kiss you?”

Yuki laughed a little wetly, and leaned in, pressing his lips to Viktor’s.“I hope you’re safe,” he murmured into the kiss, and Viktor trembled.“God, I hope you’re safe,” Yuki continued.“Or else all of this… all of the fear and heartbreak you’ve endured, it would all be for nothing.”

Viktor chuckled.“I hope so,” he echoed.“And Yuki, I hope that you’ll be safe, despite me dragging you into all this.I… I don’t know what I would do if something happened with you.”

Yuki whimpered alittle, and Viktor kissed a tear off his cheek.“I feel the same,” Yuki whispered, trembling.“I… I always have.”

Viktor smiled as much as he could.“I’m honored.”

Yuki lunged forward, pressing his face against Viktor’s shoulder.Viktor held him, rocking back and forth, and Yuki took his turn to cry.

It was getting dark outside by the time either of them summoned the energy to get up, to get out of bed, lured to the kitchen by hunger.For once Viktor gave into to Yuki’s insistence, sitting at the table while Yuki cooked them a simple dinner.They ate in silence, holding hands across the table, and when they were done Viktor washed the dishes while Yuki leaned against the counter next to him, his arms crossed over his chest.Viktor had to admit that, after a few hours and a meal, he was feeling a bit better.The betrayal still ate at him, anger and disgust and sorrow boiling low in his gut, but it was no longer all-consuming as it had been right after Georgi had been arrested.

As Viktor dried off his hands Yuki came up behind him, sliding his arms around Viktor’s waist to hug him close.Viktor smiled a little in spite of himself, resting one hand on Yuki’s arm.“I’m glad you’re still staying with me, Yuki,” he said.

Yuki rested his cheek on Viktor’s back.“I am as well,” he agreed.“I… I’m glad you’re not alone, through all of this.”

Viktor absently rubbed Yuki’s arm with his thumb, looking down at the droplets of water splattered on the counter from his dishwashing.“Are you tired?” Yuki asked quietly, and Viktor nodded.

Yuki stood on his tiptoes to give Viktor a kiss on the back of the head, and then let go of him before taking his hand.Viktor paused in the doorway of the kitchen, squeezing Yuki’s fingers slightly.“Yuki, do you want-” he started, and Yuki smiled.

“I’d love to, if you wanted.”Viktor smiled, nodding.

They went to bed quickly after that, taking solace in each other’s kisses and gentle touches.

When they were finished, satisfied and curled in each other’s arms, Viktor kissed the back of Yuki’s neck before whispering, “How much do you know about Russian diminutives, Yuki?”

Yuki made a low murmuring sound, shifting in Viktor’s arms until they were face to face.“Diminutives?” he echoed.

Viktor smiled a little.Yuki’s accent was always much thicker when he was tired, and Viktor thought it was the cutest thing..“It’s… a way of showing affection,” Viktor explained.“Like a nickname, or a pet name?”

He bit his lip.“Some of the others at the rink call me Vitya, for exampleIt’s just to show that you’re closer to me than just a casual acquaintance..You, um… you could do that too, if you wanted.”

Yuki blushed.“Really?” he whispered.Viktor nodded.

“I… I’d like that,” Yuki whispered.”Vitya.”

Viktor blushed, even harder than Yuki, and Yuki smiled, kissing the tip of Viktor’s nose.“Are there any other… diminutives?” he asked, is tone slightly teasing.

Viktor fought a grin.“Of course.There are some more… intimate ones as well.”

“Mm,” Yuki murmured, getting a little closer.“Like what?”

“Like Viten’ka, or Vityusha, for example,” Viktor replied.

Yuki was so close that if Viktor moved at all, his lips would brush against his boyfriend’s.“So,” Yuki murmured.“You wouldn’t mind if I called you Viten’ka?”

Viktor shivered.Yuki chuckled.“Do you like that?” he whispered.

Viktor nodded.“I love you,” he whispered, his heart filled to burst, and this time Yuki smiled instead of crying.

“I love you too… Viten’ka,” he replied.

Viktor cuddled close, burying his nose in Yuki’s soft hair.Even without looking he could tell that Yuki was still smiling.

And as Viktor drifted off to sleep, the burdens on his shoulders felt just a bit lighter.

***

“It’s your decision,” Minako said, and Yuuri swallowed nervously.

“Completely?” he asked, and Minako hummed in confirmation.

“It would only be an extra week, maybe two, anyway,” she said.“And that’s not consequential enough for Interpol to put up a fight if you decided to stay in St. Petersburg until Worlds.”

Yuuri looked down at his lap, and then out the window of Viktor’s apartment from where he was curled up on the couch, a blanket around his shoulders to ward of the chill of the March morning.In the kitchen, he could hear Viktor rummaging around, clanging pots and pans as he looked for the exact cooking utensil he needed.

Yuuri had woken up to a far more cheerful Viktor than he had witnessed the night before, and although he did believe that Viktor was going to be alright he also knew that at least half of Viktor’s good cheer was fake.

“Has he given a confession yet?” Yuuri asked, changing the subject for the time being.

Minako sighed heavily."Popovich?" she said."No, he still insists that he's innocent."

Yuuri bit his lip, toying absently with a loose thread on the hem of his sweater.“Are you sure he’s guilty?” he said quietly.“I know Interpol has evidence, but Viktor-”

“Yuuri, I’m sorry, I know it seems hard to believe,” Minako said, and Yuuri frowned at the pity he could hear clearly in her voice.“I know he was friends with Viktor, and it must be hard for you to see Viktor upset,” Minako continued.“But the evidence Interpol uncovered is enough to convict him, once he goes on trial.”

Yuuri hesitated.“But-”

“They found a gun, Yuuri,” Minako snapped.“A gun with bullets that match the ones found at the scene of Mikhailov’s murder within a reasonable degree of scientific certainty, with traces of both Mikhailov’s blood and Popovich’s DNA.And while the investigation is still underway, he could have very well have been involved in, or even responsible for, Morooka-san’s murder.They found papers, communications to connect Popovich to Markov.While it’s possible to plant evidence, we have no reason to believe that it happened in this case.I know it would be easier for Viktor if he didn’t know the person threatening him, but that’s just not what happened in this case.I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Yuuri murmured.“It’s not your fault.It’s no one’s fault but Georgi’s… I’m just…”He paused.

“Do remember,” Minako said levelly.“My superiors at Interpol aren’t exactly pleased about your relationship with Viktor.Please don’t take this as a threat, just a warning… but they could very well dissociate you from the case almost entirely if they think you’ve become too emotionallyattached to him.”

“Right,” Yuuri mumbled.“Right.Um, can I get back to you?About staying in St. Petersburg and competing in Worlds, I mean.”  He already knew what he wanted to do, that he wanted to stay, he just... needed to make sure.

“Sure,” Minako said.“By tomorrow morning though, alright?”

Yuuri hummed in vague agreement and then hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket.

“Yuki, is everything alright?” 

Yuuri jumped, and then turned to find Viktor standing behind him, a whisk in his hand.Yuuri hadn’t even heard him approach.

He cleared his throat, and then smiled a little.“Ah, yeah, everything’s fine.Why?”

Viktor’s frown deepened.“You don’t look fine,” he said.He tucked the handle of the whisk into his back pocket and then circled around the couch before sitting next to Yuuri.“I don’t know what’s wrong, but is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked.

Yuuri smiled at him, relaxing a little.“I promise, I’m fine,” he said.“Just… fielding a call from my agent in Japan?”

“About next season?” Viktor asked curiously, and Yuuri shrugged.

“Yeah,” he murmured.“I… have some decisions to make, I think.”

Viktor scratched at his cheek.“You’re not staying on with Yakov?” he asked.

Yuuri cleared his throat, and then said in a carefully calm voice, “He’s coaching me until Worlds as a specific favor to Celestino Cialdini.I doubt he’d take me on for another season.”

And there was absolutely no way that Interpol would _let_ him skate another season.Like it or not, _relationship_ or not, Yuuri’s job in St. Petersburg was more or less over.He would have other missions waiting for him when he got back to Tokyo, in all likeliness.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Viktor said carefully, “Why couldn’t you stay with Celestino for the rest of the season?”

Yuuri blinked.“My, um… my visa ran out unexpectedly?” he tried.

Viktor frowned.“And you couldn’t get another?”

Yuuri looked down at his lap, and ran his fingers through his hair.“Um, it would have taken too long?” he tried.He couldn’t remember enough about American or Russian visa laws to figure out if that was at all accurate.

Yuuri bit his lip, and purposefully widened his eyes before blinking slowly.“Getting a Russian visa was much quicker.”

Blushing, Viktor gazed at him, his eyes soft.“Makes sense,” he mumbled, and then shook his head slightly.“So Celestino can’t coach you next season?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri lied.“I need to talk with him in more detail.”

Viktor’s lips twisted thoughtfully, and then he said slowly, “Yuki, can I… Can I make you an offer?”

Yuuri’s brow furrowed.“Sure…?”

Viktor cleared his throat.“I’m going to retire after this season,” he said, and held up a hand when Yuuri opened his mouth to protest.“It’s not because of the threats,” he said.“It might seem like that decision is coming out of nowhere, but I’ve been thinking about retiring for a while.  I think it’s finally my time.It would be better for me to retire, before I injure myself.But after that, while I don’t have much of a plan… I was thinking about taking up coaching?” He met Yuuri’s eyes.“If you would accept me, I could coach you.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.“What?” he whispered.

Viktor looked back down again, as if shy.“Only if you wanted, obviously,” he added.“But I really think I could help you.You have a lot of potential, Yuki, I’m sure you know that.If you wanted I might… help you reach that?”

Yuuri stared open mouthed at his boyfriend for a long moment, and then whispered, “Can I… Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” Viktor said immediately.“Take all the time you need.I just… wanted to put the offer out there, I guess.”

“Thank you, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured, awestruck.

“I really hope things work out for you, no matter what you decide,” Viktor said softly, looking down at Yuuri’s hands in his.“I know that we haven’t been together for long, but… I really hope to be able to have you for longer.”He looked up earnestly.“Please consider my offer, if you don’t mind.I’d… I’d really like to be a part of your future.”

Yuuri nodded.But he knew that his future with Viktor only held heartbreak.

And, as Viktor leaned in with a smile to kiss him, Yuuri also knew that his heart had already been the first to break.

***

The flight to Boston for the World Championships was oddly stressful.Viktor had underestimated how odd it would be to fly to Worlds missing people- Yuri hadn’t made the cut for Worlds despite being mostly recovered from his injuries, and Georgi had, obviously, been arrested.

Having Yuki by his side helped somewhat, but Viktor was frazzled nonetheless by the time the plane touched down in America, more than twelve hours after it had taken off.It took annoyingly long time to get through customs and immigration, and by the time they were getting into a taxi Viktor was more or less dead on his feet.

Poor Yuki, however, seemed even worse- despite the fact thathe had clearly been trying to hide it, Viktor could tell that the long plane flight had made him nervous.Yuki had fidgeted the entire time, playing with his headphones and fiddling with his phone and glancing over his shoulder, even though the only people behind them were Mila and Yakov.

Viktor half supported him while they waited in line to have their passports checked, and as soon as they were in their taxi Yuki more or less fell asleep against Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor smiled fondly, wrapping one arm around Yuki’s shoulder, and pulled him close.It would be nice, Viktor decided, to have someone to spend time with at Worlds this year.Sure, he usually had Chris as well, but Chris also usually wanted to go clubbing.Viktor just didn’t have the energy for that, not after everything that had happened.But he did have the energy to spend a quiet evening with his love before the short programs began.

The ride to the hotel passed quickly, and despite the fact that it was only just getting dark in America, Viktor didn’t protest when Yakov ordered all of his skaters to bed.In a rare fit of generosity, Yakov had allowed Viktor to share a room with Yuki after extracting promises from the both of them not to jeopardize their performances at Worlds, and Viktor couldn’t help but grin when Yuki’s first action after reaching their room was to collapse face first onto his bed.

“I guess you really are tired,” Viktor laughed, sitting down next to his boyfriend.

Yuki groaned into the comforter, and then looked up at Viktor with bleary eyes, his glasses crooked on his face.“And you aren’t?”

Viktor’s chuckle quickly turned into a yawn.“I guess you have a point.”

He glanced around the room, curious.It was a bit larger than he had expected, but still smaller than most of the hotel rooms he had had in the past, partly out of consideration for Yuki’s wallet.Despite that, there was still room for their bags, a dresser, and two twin beds, and a door off to the side that presumably left to the bathroom.Viktor resolved to investigate in a few minutes, desperate to wash the stench of the stale airplane air out of his skin, and then turned back to Yuki.

In the dim, golden light of the one lamp next to the bed that they had turned on, Yuki looked absolutely beautiful.His long, dark eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks, and his dark hair fell rumpled over his forehead.Viktor’s heart felt like it was going to beat straight out of his chest.He had never been more in love.

“Vitya, why are you staring at me?” Yuki mumbled, and Viktor smiled.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.“I love you.”

Yuki opened his eyes and rolled onto his back so he could return Viktor’s gaze.“I love you too,” he replied, his voice catching slightly.

Viktor smiled, leaning down to kiss him.Yuki kissed him back, slow and sleepy, but when they parted he was smiling.“Yuki,” Viktor said quietly.“Would you like to push our beds together?”

Yuki’s soft smile grew.“So I can hold you?Definitely.”

Viktor kissed him on the tip of the nose and then stood, pushing his shoulder against the bed Yuki was lying on.Yuki giggled, and then rolled off to help with the other bed, pushing until the two beds were flush against each other.

“Perfect,” Viktor said in satisfaction.Yuki nodded in agreement, and then crawled back onto the bed he had claimed and snuggled against one of the pillows.“You’re showering, I assume?” he mumbled, and Viktor grinned.

“You know me so well, dorogoy,” he cooed, and planted a couple of kisses along Yuki’s jaw before squeezing his hand.“I’ll be back in a few.”

“Take your time,” Yuki mumbled sleepily.Viktor smiled tenderly and gently teased Yuki’s glasses off his face before heading to the shower.

By the time he got out and had dried his hair and performed his skin care routine, Yuki had changed out of his clothes and was tucked properly into bed, but clearly not completely asleep.He made a soft, murmuring noise when Viktor climbed in beside him, and clung to Viktor as soon as he inched close enough.

“I love you, Viten’ka,” he muttered, and Viktor’s breath caught in his throat.

“I love you too, my dear,” he replied in little more than a whisper.

Yuki snuggled against him, his breath warm against Viktor’s shoulder even through his shirt, and settled.

Viktor blinked back the tears that sprung suddenly to his eyes, so filled with love as he was.God, he _wanted_ , so much it hurt. There was nothing more that he wanted than to hold Yuki close, hold him like this forever. He would be happy as long as he had the privilege of loving Yuki for the rest of his life.And maybe, just maybe, Yuki would want that too. 

It was far too early to think about marriage, of course, but Viktor knew that his boyfriend loved him, seemed to enjoy living with him… so maybe they could make things work.

Viktor buried his face in his beloved’s hair, exhaling slowly even as his heart pounded in his chest.He was getting ahead ofhimself, but then, he _had_ always been a romantic.Maybe he could bring up the topic of marriage with Yuki after Worlds…Maybe Yuki would even say yes…

Viktor held his love close, and fell asleep to dreams of their future.

***

Yuuri was still groggy when he woke, even after sleeping for almost twelve hours.He had forgotten what an ass jet lag was, evidently, even after flying from Russia to Japan and Taipei for other competitions the month before.

Viktor slumbered on in bed beside him, his face peaceful, a small smile on his lips.Yuuri propped himself up in bed a little, and gazed down at his boyfriend.

It hit him almost out of the blue how much he _wanted_.  As impossible as it was, Yuuri wanted nothing more than to wake up next to Viktor every single day for the rest of his life.  He hadn’t ever fallen this far, this fast.  It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

And it physically hurt Yuuri to think of how much Viktor would hate him when he found out the truth.

Yuuri sighed deeply, now wide awake.  Without rousing Viktor he slipped out of bed, grabbing his phone on the way to the bathroom.  After relieving himself Yuuri checked his messages, unsurprised to see a couple of messages from Phichit, wondering when he would be into Boston and whether he wanted to meet for breakfast.  Yuuri quickly replied, and then left the bathroom just as Viktor was sitting up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. 

“What day is it?” he mumbled in thickly accented English, and Yuuri chuckled. 

“It’s the day before the short program,” he said. 

“Good, I didn’t sleep through any of the competition,” he mumbled, and then yawned into his fist.  

Yuuri smiled, crossing the hotel room to sit beside him.  “I made plans with Phichit for breakfast, is that alright?” he said, and Viktor nodded. 

“Of course,” he replied.  “If you don't mind, then, I might text Chris?  See if he’s here and awake?” 

“Yes, of course,” Yuuri said. 

Viktor reached out and laced their fingers together, bringing Yuuri’s hand to his lips before kissing his knuckles, the place on his ring finger where a ring might go, the inside of his wrist.  Yuuri blushed, and squeezed Viktor’s fingers as Viktor smiled gently at him.  “I love you, my Yuki,” he whispered. 

Yuuri’s blush deepened.  “I love you too,” he whispered in reply, and Viktor leaned forward to kiss him on the lips before letting go. 

“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said, and Yuuri smiled. 

“Alright.  I’ll let you wake up.” 

“Rude,” Viktor pouted, and then ran his fingers through his hair before stretching.  Yuuri swallowed hard, color flooding his cheeks again as his eyes were drawn to Viktor’s rippling muscles, very clear underneath his sleep shirt. 

Viktor caught him staring and winked, grinning slyly.  “See something you like?” 

Yuuri covered his face, peeking through his fingers.  “You’d hope so.” 

Viktor chuckled, throwing the sheets off his legs.  He surged forward to give Yuuri one last kiss before disappearing into the bathroom, throwing another wink over his shoulder. 

Yuuri took a few minutes to get his blushing under control, and then dressed and left the room to meet Phichit.  His friend had texted him an address, belonging to a small cafe half a block from the hotel, and by the time Yuuri got there Phichit was already waiting at a table in the back, a steaming mug of tea in front of him.  Yuuri pulled up a chair, and Phichit jumped a little. 

Yuuri smiled teasingly.  “A little jumpy, aren’t you?” 

Phichit laughed sheepishly.  “I’m still tired, I guess,” he said.  “Although my time difference is a lot less than yours.  How are you adjusting?” 

Yuuri chuckled.   “I’m just fine,” he said. 

“Oh, um, I ordered tea for you as well,” Phichit said, his eyes catching on something over Yuuri’s shoulder.  Yuuri smiled. 

“Of course.  Thanks.” 

Phichit fidgeted with his fingers, and then said, “So, um.  I heard someone got arrested?” 

Yuuri sighed tiredly, leaning forward and lowering his voice.  “How much did you hear?” he asked.  “Both from Minako, and through the grapevine?” 

Phichit lips twisted.  “Minako told me next to nothing,” he complained.  “She’s made it very clear that she wants a civilian like me involved as little as possible.” 

“She’s not exactly wrong,” Yuuri mumbled, and Phichit squinted at him. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” he said.  “I’ve heard plenty of rumors, mostly unsubstantiated.  But-”  He lowered his voice further, leaning close enough that Yuuri could smell the tea on his breath.  “Rumor has it that Georgi Popovich was arrested,” Phichit whispered.  “Yuur-  Yuki, was it really him?  Was he really the one threatening Viktor?” 

Yuuri bit his lip, tangling his fingers together.  “It seems so,” he confirmed, sighing heavily.  “Interpol agents arrested him last week.”

“Did you know it was going to happen?” Phichit asked, and Yuuri shook his head. 

“I was warned that Interpol hoped to make an arrest, but I wasn’t told who was going to get arrested,” he said.  “They didn’t want me to act differently around the culprit.  Makes sense, now that I know who it is.  He could have run away if he had gotten suspicious, and that would be a significant setback for Interpol.” 

They fell silent as a waiter arrived at their table to give Yuuri his tea and take breakfast orders from the both of them, but as soon as the waiter was gone Phichit leaned in and said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t much help, Yuki.” 

Yuuri shrugged, and then gave his friend a wry grin.  “It’s fine,” he said.  “You were only in on everything for a few months.  I’m sure no one would blame you.” 

“It’s odd, actually,” Phichit said thoughtfully.  “I didn’t gather much information, sure, but I… I didn’t hear or find anything to indicate that Georgi was the guilty one.” 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.  “Really?” 

Phichit shrugged.  “Again, I wasn’t much use,” he said quietly.  “But I almost thought it was… well, it doesn’t matter now.”  He waved a hand, and then shook his head.  “I’m sure Interpol was right.  I’m just being stupid.  There’s nothing to worry about.” 

“I _hope_ Interpol is right,” Yuuri murmured, pressing his lips together.  He had no reason to believe that Interpol was wrong, and yet… Phichit’s behavior was making him a little antsy. 

“Because if they’re not,” he added softly, “With the short programs tomorrow, Viktor could be in more danger than ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> そしてその信頼をもっと破壊する。ごめんなさい , Viktor = And I’m going to destroy that trust more. I’m sorry, Viktor. (Huge thanks to [catalists](https://catalists.tumblr.com/) and an anonymous friend for translation help!)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I'm aiming to have the next chapter up on or around July 21st. Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fabulous day, dear reader!


	21. The Beginning (of the End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the short programs begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a bit shorter, I hope what happens makes up for that! (Quick warning for some non-explicit sex near the end, if that's an issue).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor felt nothing on the morning of the short programs.

Not fear.

Not anxiety.

Not excitement.

If his heart hadn’t nearly burst with love when he had caught sight of Yuki in bed beside him, he would have been afraid that he was having a bad day, a hollow and empty day. It took Viktor a few hours to figure out that he just didn’t really care about the results of the final. Even after all of his training, all of the work he had put into over months, _years_ , didn't make much of a difference.

He was tired, exhausted.He just wanted his professional career to _end_.And the fact that Worlds would, in fact, mark the end of his career was just a bit of light at the end of the tunnel.

Yuki helped, too, Viktor decided.Having a boyfriend to hold him at night, to expose a few of his vulnerabilities to, seemed to make Viktor feel almost... stronger.It was nice, to be able to trust someone completely, to rely on someone.It was nice to _love_.

Viktor got off practice about the same time that Yuki did the day of the short program, and Viktor wasted no time in latching onto his boyfriend.“We should go out for lunch, Yuki,” he suggested.

Yuki smiled a little nervously, brushing his hair out of his eyes.“Sure, I’d love to,” he said softly.“Do we need to ask for permission, or…?” 

Viktor grinned.“We’re both adults, aren’t we?” he teased.

Yuki’s smile widened.“That’s true,” he agreed, and slipped his hand into Viktor’s.Viktor squeezed his fingers, and then leaned in and kissed Yuki on the cheek.“I’m leaving with Yuki!” he called to Yakov, waving.The coach glared pensively at them, and waved a dismissive hand back.

With that acknowledgement, Viktor led Yuki out the door.“We should explore, my love,” he said.“Have you ever been to Boston before?”

Yuki shook his head.“No, while I lived in America I mostly stayed in Detroit,” he replied.“Except for Skate America, I suppose.”

Viktor frowned thoughtfully as he walked beside Yuki, looking around at the buildings around them.“I don’t think I’ve ever been here either,” he said.“I’m pretty sure this is the first time Worlds has been in this city.”

Yuki shrugged.Viktor glanced over, and saw that Yuki was studying the sidewalk as they walked, chewing on his lower lip.“Yuki?” Viktor said softly.They stopped, off to the side and out of the way of foot traffic.“What’s the matter?” Viktor murmured.

Yuki looked up at him, but there was a distracted light in his eyes.“I… Nothing is wrong,” he said, and then hesitated.

“Yuki,” Viktor practically begged. “Please, if something’s wrong, I can help you.Will you let me help you?”

Yuki took a deep breath, held it for a few moments, and then shook his head.“There’s… there’s nothing wrong, I promise,” he said.“I’m just… tired.And worried for the short programs tonight.”

Viktor caught his tongue between his teeth, thinking. “Why are you worried?” he finally asked.

Yuki looked up at him, his dark eyes wide, bottomless.“I don’t know,” he whispered.“I don’t… I don’t _belong_ here with the rest of you.I didn’t earn my way here, not like the rest of you did.”

Viktor’s heart cracked at the despair in his boyfriend’s voice, and he searched desperately for the right words to cheer him up.“Yuki,” he finally settled on, edging a little closer and rubbing small circles into the backs of Yuki’s hands with his thumbs.“Please don’t say that about yourself.You’re incredibly talented, everyone can see that… There’s nothing to worry about.You have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Yuki barked out an odd, muffled laugh, and enveloped Viktor in a tight hug.A little puzzled, Viktor hugged him back, and smiled slightly when Yuki clung to him and buried his face in his shoulder.He didn’t exactly understand where Yuki’s anxiety was coming from, but he was always prepared to help and support his boyfriend just like his boyfriend was always prepared to help and support him.

“Nothing to worry about,” Yuki repeated, his voice a little muffled.“God, Vitya, I hope you’re right.”

They found lunch quickly after that, buying sandwiches and drinks from a store, before wandering through the streets until they made their way to a park by the Charles River.Viktor couldn’t help but smile as Yuki rested his head against Viktor’s shoulder while they ate, their legs pressed together as they leaned back against a tree.

“It’s nice out,” Viktor commented as Yuki nibbled on his sandwich beside him, looking up at the sky.

“It’s nice to be somewhere that’s warmer than St. Petersburg,” Yuki added with a giggle, and Viktor nodded in agreement.He balled up the paper his sandwich had been wrapped in and stuffed it in his pocket, doing the same with Yuki’s trash before wrapping an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Yuki made a small sound of surprise and then snuggled closer, a warm weight against Viktor’s side.Viktor gazed out at the river, thoughtful.Despite the looming short programs, he wasn’t particularly inclined to move from his spot with the love of his life by his side.Preferably ever.

Yuki smiled up at Viktor, and Viktor smiled back.Yuki’s cheeks were a little flushed with cold, the tip of his nose red, and when Viktor kissed it, it was chilly beneath his lips.Yuki laughed, reaching up and cupping Viktor’s face before kissing him deeply.“I love you,” he said fervently when they parted.

Viktor’s smile took over his face.“I love you too,” he replied.“I hope this is the first of many World Championships we’re together for.”

Yuki blinked, an odd expression flashing across his face, and then said with his brow furrowed, “I thought you said you were going to retire.”

Viktor shrugged.“I am,” he added, and then leaned in a little closer, brushing his lips over Yuki’s again.“But that doesn’t mean we can’t be together.”He pulled back as a sudden thought struck him.“Unless… unless you don’t want to,” he added.

Yuki’s eyes widened.“No!” he exclaimed, and then blushed.“I mean, um… Vitya, I want to be together with you as long as you’ll have me.”

Viktor gave him an honest, earnest look.“I want to be with you for a very long time, Nakamura Yuki,” he whispered.

Yuki looked down abruptly, fixing his eyes on his lap, and Viktor’s heart plummeted.“Vitya,” Yuki said softly, and when he looked up his eyes were wet.“That’s almost like a marriage proposal,” he said with a laugh, his voice catching.

Viktor smiled again, reaching out to cup Yuki’s face in his hands, gazing into his eyes.“Yuki,” he said quietly.“I know that we don’t have to think about this yet, and definitely not right before the World Championships begin, but I… I really love you.These last few months of dating you, of living with you, have been some of the best of my life.I…” He trailed off, searching for the words.

Yuki gazed back expectantly, one hand coming up to rest on Viktor’s, pressed against his cheek.Viktor swallowed hard.“I think, maybe, if you wanted to as well, my love,” he said clumsily, wishing he knew the right words in English, in Russian, to express the depths of love in his heart.“I think I’d want to spend the rest of my life with-”

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you two here!” a familiar voice said, and Viktor sprung back before kicking himself internally.He was acting cagey, as though he was ashamed of Yuki, but there was _nothing_ to be ashamed of.

Yuki bit his lip, giving Viktor one last long look, and then smiled up at the two people standing in front of them.“Hey, Phichit.Seung-gil.”

Phichit, with an expressionless Seung-gil by his side, grinned down at them.“Whatcha doing?” he asked.

Viktor forced a smile, even as irritation soured in his stomach.Phichit couldn’t have waited _one more moment?_ “Oh, um, we just finished lunch,” Yuki said awkwardly, and then rubbed at his nose before stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.Despite the fact that it was spring, a chill breeze still swept into the city off the river.

Absentmindedly, Viktor took one of Yuki’s hands and warmed his cold fingertips between both palms, and Yuki smiled fondly at him.“Vitya, what were you going to say?” he asked quietly.

Viktor’s smile stretched his lips thin, painful.“Oh, nothing.Moment’s lost now, I can tell you later.”

Yuki gave him an adoring, slightly puzzled smile.“Alright.If you say so.”

Phichit looked sideways at Seung-gil, and then plopped down in front of them.“Are you excited for the competition tonight, _Yuki?”_ he said.

Yuki gave him an odd frown, but nodded.“I’m looking forward to seeing how everyone will perform.”

Phichit’s eyes darted to Viktor, and Viktor had to struggle to keep a cheerful smile on his face.He liked Phichit.Phichit was Yuki’s friend, and Yuki was one of the most important people in Viktor’s life.It didn’t matter that Phichit had interrupted Viktor’s pseudo-proposal, it wasn’t like he had done it on purpose.

“How about you, Viktor?” Phichit asked, and maybe Viktor’s imagination was acting up but Phichit seemed to be squinting at him, leaning forward slightly.The question felt less like a friendly inquiry and more like an interrogation.

“I’m looking forward to the competition as well,” Viktor said slowly.“And you?”

Phichit smiled, but it didn’t even come close to reaching his eyes.“I’m definitely looking forward to skating tonight.”

“Phichit,” Seung-gil said, the first time he had spoken.“It’s past noon, and you promised to buy me lunch.”

Phichit’s smile softened a little when he looked up at his friend… boyfriend?Viktor had never been quite sure about the depth of their relationship, and didn’t know either well enough to ask.“Sorry,” Phichit said with a bit of a laugh in his voice.

Seung-gil raised one thick eyebrow.“Why don’t we leave them alone, then,” he said bluntly, and Viktor thought he saw Phichit wince.

“I guess so,” the Thai man sighed, getting to his feet again.He flashed Yuki and Viktor a wide, bright grin, one that wasreturned shyly by Yuki and reluctantly by Viktor.“Good luck later,” Phichit said, waving a little.Seung-gil grabbed him by the elbow, tugging him away.

“That was… odd,” Yuki said slowly, and then shrugged, turning to Viktor.“Don’t you think?”

Viktor hummed in agreement, squinting after Phichit and Seung-gil as they left.“Yes,” he agreed slowly.“Definitely odd.”

***

“What are you up to,” Seung-gil asked in a flat voice as soon as he and Phichit were out of earshot of Viktor and Yuuri.

Phichit bit his lip, looking over his shoulder.“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. In the park, Yuuri and Viktor were pressed close together again, their heads bowed together as though having a quiet conversation.

“Phichit,” Seung-gil said impatiently, and Phichit turned his attention back to his boyfriend.

“Ye-es?” he said teasingly, linking one arm with Seung-gil’s.

Seung-gil gave him a long look, but to Phichit’s pleased surprise, he didn’t pull away.“Phichit, you’re not fooling anyone,” Seung-gil said seriously, giving Phichit a long look.“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”He glanced over his shoulder as well, even though the park was out of sight.“It was pretty clear that they were having a private conversation when we happened upon them,” Seung-gil added, squinting at Phichit, and then his eyes widened.“Or did we not happen upon them at all?Phichit, were you _looking_ for your roommate?”

Phichit swallowed nervously.“Why don’t we get lunch, and then I’ll tell you,” he said quickly.That would hopefully give him enough time to think of an excuse for what he had done, an excuse that didn’t involve blowing Yuuri’s cover.

Seung-gil shrugged.“Fine.”

They made their way to a small cafe they had seen on the walk to the park, and quickly ordered their lunches before finding a table in the back.Phichit had ordered soup and a sandwich, and had bought himself a cookie, while Seung-gil had gotten a salad in a clear attempt to eat healthily before the short programs later that night, but Phichit knew that before they finished eating Seung-gil would have stolen at least half of his cookie.

“So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Seung-gil said, playing with his salad.

Phichit wordlessly handed his kind-of-boyfriend half of his sandwich, and then said tentatively, “Did you hear any of what Viktor was saying to Yuki in the park?”

Seung-gil’s lips twitched slightly.“I wasn’t listening,” he said, and then gave Phichit a pointed look. “I had more interesting things to pay attention to.”

Phichit blushed, but Seung-gil forged on.“Besides, to be honest, I could care less what Nikiforov has to say to Nakamura,” he added.“That’s between them, it doesn’t involve me.”

Phichit bit his lip, anxiously stirring his spoon around in his soup.“It really sounded like Viktor was going to propose to Yuki,” he said quietly.

Seung-gil stared at him incredulously, the most expression he had shown since the first time he had seen Phichit that morning, and then leaned in and hissed, “You interrupted a _proposal?_ Phichit, that’s low, even for you!”

“Even for me?” Phichit repeated, and then let it go.“Whatever.Doesn’t matter.I know it sounds bad, but-”

“Yeah, that sounds really bad!” Seung-gil interrupted.“I know I said I didn’t care what Nikiforov had to say, but Phichit, I thought you were friends with Nakamura.Or something.”He leaned back in his chair as his expression smoothed again but for a small wrinkle between his brows.If Phichit was reading him right, he seemed a little embarrassed about his outburst.

“I _am_ friends with Yuki,” Phichit insisted quietly.“That’s why… that’s why I interrupted Viktor’s proposal.”

Phichit stopped, thinking.How was he supposed to explain to Seung-gil that if Yuuri and Viktor went further with their relationship, it would only lead to heartbreak?Phichit was one of the few people in the _world_ who knew that ace figure skater Nakamura Yuki wasn’t who he said he was, and Phichit had no doubt that once Viktor found out he would be devastated.Phichit found it kind of hard to believe that their relationship would weather that kind of deception, as optimistic as he wanted to be, and it would be one hundred times worse if they got _engaged_ or _married_ before Viktor found out how long Yuuri had been lying to him.

All Phichit wanted was to protect his friend from the heartbreak he knew would come, the heartbreak he had already heard over the phone when Yuuri had told him that he loved Viktor… but that wasn’t something Phichit could explain easily to Seung-gil.Not without telling _him_ the truth.

“Oh, _Phichit_ ,” Seung-gil sighed, and when Phichit looked up he was shocked to see something almost _soft_ in his eyes.

Phichit frowned.“What?”

Seung-gil looked around as though to make sure no one was watching, and then reached out and took Phichit’s hand.Phichit blinked in surprise.He knew more than anyone that Seung-gil was nowhere near as cold and emotionless as he liked to pretend, but he usually kept his displays of affection for when they were alone… or in the bedroom.Phichit couldn’t remember more than a couple of times that they had held hands in public, much less any time Seung-gil had initiated it.

“Phichit, are you jealous of Yuki?” Seung-gil said, and Phichit felt a hot blush stain his cheeks.

“No!No, that’s not it at all!” he squawked.

Seung-gil gave him a look like he didn’t quite believe him, and brushed his palm over the back of Phichit’s hand before toying with his fingers.“It’s OK to feel jealousy,” he said quietly.“But you shouldn’t let that control your actions.”

Phichit licked his dry lips, and then laced his fingers together with Seung-gil’s before lifting both of their hands off the table.“Seung-gil,” he said seriously, making eye contact.Seung-gil gazed back, his dark eyes unfathomable.

“I am not jealous,” Phichit said in what he hoped passed for a calm and level voice.“I just don’t want Yuki to get his heart broken.”

Seung-gil cocked his head slightly to the side.“Phichit, anyone who’s talked with either Nikiforov or Nakamura can tell that they’re utterly smitten with each other,” he said slowly.“Why would a proposal break Nakamura’s heart?”

“Because Yuki is actually an agent sent by Interpol to infiltrate the competition and Viktor is never going to forgive him for lying,” Phichit blurted, and then covered his mouth with one hand, horrified.He had _not_ meant to say that out loud.God, Yuuri was going to _kill_ him.

Seung-gil stared at him seriously, and then let go of Phichit’s hand to bury his face in his arms his shoulders shaking.

“Um,” Phichit said, and then stared in shock when Seung-gil lifted his head to look up at him, the widest grin Phichit had ever seen on his face.

“An  _international agent?”_ Seung-gil laughed, and then covered his mouth with one hand, giggling into his fingers, the tips of his ears flushed.“Phichit, you could at least _try_ to make your stories believable.”He let out another bark of laughter.“Nakamura, a _spy?_ Please!”

Phichit laughed along nervously, staring at is kind-of-boyfriend.He had never seen Seung-gil laugh like this.

Seung-gil’s laughter died down, but he was still smiling slightly as he reached out and took Phichit’s cookie, unwrapping it and breaking it in half before giving half back.“Phichit,” he said.“I don’t think you have anything to worry about your roommate’s heart getting broken.He and Nikiforov seem like a done deal at this point, pretty much.It’s only going to hurt them more by getting in the way.”

Phichit chuckled nervously, picking one chocolate chip out of his cookie and popping it in his mouth.“I… I guess so,” he said, his heart sinking.

Seung-gil was wrong- desperately, horribly wrong- but Phichit had already fucked up once and let slip too much.He was _not_ going to let it happen again.

They finished their lunch in silence, Seung-gil with that same, slight smile on his face, and Phichit didn’t protest when his kind-of-boyfriend ate the rest of his cookie.

As they left the cafe, Seung-gil leaned in and gave Phichit a small kiss that tasted of chocolate.Phichit smiled in spite of himself, and reached out to take Seung-gil’s hand.Seung-gil laced their fingers together and looked resolutely ahead, but the tips of his ears turned red again.Phichit grinned behind one hand as they walked out into the warming Boston air.

Maybe, just for now, he would be able to focus on spending time with his probably-boyfriend instead of worrying about what catastrophes could occur later.

Maybe if they walked fast enough, Phichit could leave behind his creeping sense of impending doom.

***

Yuuri leaned against the counter in the men’s bathroom at the World Championship venue, his arms crossed over his chest, as he watched Viktor touch up his makeup for the short programs.Somehow it had gotten smudged (Yuuri suspected that his making out with Viktor in a corner for “good luck” hadn’t helped much), and Viktor had dragged Yuuri along to fix it, since they both had a little while until their skates.

“How are you feeling, Yuki?” Viktor asked as he very carefully reapplied his lipstick.

Yuuri smiled a little nervously. “I think I’m alright.”

Viktor gave him a smile in the mirror.“I’m glad.Not too nervous?”

Yuuri shook his head, lacing his fingers together before popping his joints.“Surprisingly, no.”

Viktor recapped his lipstick and leaned forward, studying himself in the mirror.“I hope it stays like that for you, my love,” he said before nodding in satisfaction and turning.

Yuuri smiled a little shyly and slid his arms around Viktor’s waist.Viktor chuckled and hugged him back, his arms warm.Yuuri leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then giggled when Viktor chased his lips.

“Nooo, we already got in trouble once,” he said, and Viktor pouted dramatically.

“How else am I supposed to get into the perfect _Eros_ mindset if I don’t kiss you before my performance?”he complained, and Yuuri laughed.

“I don’t think you need _me_ to skate beautifully,” he pointed out.

Viktor raised one eyebrow, and then leaned forward, his breath hot against the shell of Yuuri’s ear as he purred, “There’s no one else I want to think about when I’m skating about desire, _Yuki_.”Yuuri blushed furiously, and Viktor gave him a sly, teasing grin.“Who else can compare?You’re the only one for me.”

Yuuri stood on his tiptoes and kissed Viktor, pulling away just as they got passionate.“There,” he said, taking in the blush high on Viktor’s cheeks with a deep sense of satisfaction.“Skate _Eros_ with that.”

Viktor’s smirk morphed into a wide grin, and he gave Yuuri one last quick, tight hug before grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bathroom.“I’m only skating a few after you, and I’m third to last,” he said as they walked, still hand in hand.“And then after that, we can go back to the hotel.”He gave Yuuri an exaggerated wink.“I can show you my _real_ eros.”

Yuuri laughed, hiding his smile behind one palm.“Vitya, we’re in the middle of a competition,” he said.

Viktor grinned lopsidedly.“We also have a day in the middle before the free skate,” he countered.“Plenty of time to… recover.”

Yuuri snickered.“I hope you don’t think you’re actually being smooth,” he teased as they reached the main warm up area for their group of skaters.

“Oh, Yuki, you wound me!” Viktor cried, pressing his free hand to his chest and swooning against Yuuri’s shoulder.“I’m never going to recover!”

Yuuri laughed, wrapping an arm around Viktor’s waist to hold him up.“Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

Viktor straightened, but stuck close to Yuuri’s side.“So cruel,” he complained, just as Yakov walked up.

The coach gave Viktor an exasperated glare before turning his attention to Yuuri.“Are you ready to skate, Nakamura?” he asked, and Yuuri nodded.Despite his gruff nature, Yakov was actually quite a good coach.Yuuri felt about as prepared as he was ever going to be.

Yakov kept an eye on the both of them as they stretched out, and didn’t say a word as Viktor gave Yuuri one last kiss before it was Yuuri’s turn to skate.“You’re going to do amazingly, my love,” he whispered earnestly, brushing his knuckles over Yuuri’s cheek in a gesture so tender it almost made him want to cry.“I can’t wait to see you on the podium next to me.”

Yuuri smiled shakily, and kissed Viktor before following Yakov out towards the ice.

The world around him seemed muted as Yuuri took to the ice, waving to the roaring audience around him before taking his starting position.This would be his last short program in the professional circuit.His last performance of a skate about beginnings.

Yuuri pushed back a bitter smile and tried to think of hopeful things as his music began and he sprung into motion.But it was hard, _so hard._

It felt like everything around him was coming to an end- his mission, his “career” as a figure skater, even potentially his relationship with the one person he had fallen in love with.The only things Yuuri knew was in his future was heartbreak.For everyone.

Yuuri pushed those thoughts from his mind, and let his body take over.Viktor had always said that he had a special way of skating… that he seemed to tell a story in the way he moved.So Yuuri would tell a story.He would tell a story of a love that was only just beginning, rather than ending.The beginning of a love, a life, that would only bloom and grown, stronger as it aged.

And maybe, just maybe, if Yuuri believed in that story enough, it would magically come true.

Yuuri’s short program ended as quickly as it had begun, and Yuuri held his ending pose for a long moment before collapsing to the ice, panting with exertion.Whatever he had done, it was all a blur.He had no idea how he would fare.

Somehow Yuuri got off the ice, and sat beside Yakov in the kiss and cry.“You did well,” Yakov murmured, low enough that Yuuri would be the only one to hear him.“Pity that was your last skate.You could have _been_ someone, in another life.”

Yuuri blinked, pushing his hair out of his eyes.“I still have the free program, hopefully,” he said tentatively.

Yakov paused. “Right, right,” he said after a moment.“My apologies.You have nothing to worry about, that performance was good enough to qualify you for the free.”He shook his head, chuckling darkly.“I’m tired out, today, it seems.”

Yuuri smiled, patting Yakov on the shoulder a little awkwardly.“That’s alright, it’s completely understandable,” he promised.

“Nakamura,” Yakov said as the volume of the cheers in the audience rose, and Yuuri squinted up at the scoreboard before gasping.Somehow, impossibly, he was in second place, below only Seung-gil.He wouldn’t stay, of course- Viktor hadn’t skated, and neither had Chris- but there was a good chance that he could stay in the top ten, at least.

“Good job, Nakamura,” Yakov said gruffly, clapping him on the back.“That’s an astounding PCS.”

Yuuri grinned, staring up at the scores even as he and Yakov left the kiss and cry.

“Yuki, you’re amazing!” Viktor cried as soon as they were within sight, and Yuuri turned his attention away from his score just in time to catch his boyfriend flying at him.

“Vitya!” Yuuri laughed, hugging Viktor back.“Thank you.”

Viktor held Yuuri by the shoulders, grinning proudly at him.“You were beautiful,” he gushed.“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Yuuri blushed a little, but met his eyes.“Good,” he said boldly.“Please _don’t_ take your eyes off me.”

“ _Yuki!”_ Viktor gasped, his eyes shining.

Yakov cleared his throat.Yuuri and Viktor looked over, and Yakov gave them a _look._ “Vitya, you should be getting ready,” he said pointedly.“It’s almost your turn.”

Viktor nodded, and then smiled at Yuuri before giving him a heated kiss.“Now it’s your turn not to take your eyes off _me,”_ he whispered.“Just like you promised.”

Yuuri nodded, and Viktor kissed the back of his hand, leaving a red mark from his lipstick, before leaving with his coach.

Yuuri rushed off to find a screen to watch Viktor, lucking out just as Viktor skated out onto the ice, blowing kisses to the audience and the cameras.Yuuri swallowed hard when Viktor shot the camera a sultry look, winking before taking his position.

Silence fell and then the music began, Viktor sliding into motion as easily as breathing, smooth and sensuous.Yuuri watched with wide eyes as Viktor skated, telling a story with every jump and spin and step, a story of pleasure layered upon pleasure until Yuuri felt like he could be drowning.By the time Viktor was finished with his skate Yuuri was sure he was blushing harder than he ever had, and waited only until they announced the score that shot Viktor to first before hurrying to find his boyfriend and their coach.

“Viktor, that was _incredible!”_ Yuuri gasped, hugging Viktor as soon as he saw him.“I think that was your best skate yet!”

“Ah, but if only the judges agreed,” Viktor sighed with mock wistfulness.He focused in on Yuuri again, and smirked.“My love, you’re blushing,” he said. “Was it really that… exciting?”

Yuuri pressed his face against Viktor’s shoulder and whined in embarrassment, and Viktor laughed.“If it helps, I’d be twice as bad if you were the one skating to _On Love: Eros,”_ he said, and then looked up at Yakov.“We’re going to go back to the hotel, alright?”

Yuuri grinned, and then tried to hide it.

“You can leave once everyone is done skating, and you talk to the press, Vitya,” Yakov said sternly.Viktor sighed dramatically, hanging off Yuuri, but nodded in agreement.

It seemed an eternity before they were finally able to leave the rink, and Viktor quickly hailed them a taxi to take them back to their hotel.Yuuri and Viktor couldn’t keep their hands off each other in their taxi back to their hotel, and only stopped kissing each other to get out and walk in to the hotel, picking it back up again as soon as they were in the privacy of the elevator. 

“Vitya, you were _amazing_ ,” Yuuri whispered against Viktor’s lips, clinging to Viktor just as much as Viktor hung on to him.“You were so _sexy_.”

“You were _beautiful_ ,” Viktor countered feverishly as he kissed Yuuri.“The loveliest thing I’ve ever seen.”

They stumbled out of the elevator, hanging off each other, and Viktor fumbled for his room key before letting them into their hotel room.Viktor was kissing Yuuri again as soon as they got the hotel room door closed again, and Yuuri reciprocated eagerly, bringing one hand up to cup Viktor’s face.

“Yuki,” Viktor gasped into his mouth, resting one hand against the door as the other wormed its way under Yuuri’s shirt. Yuuri gasped when Viktor rested one warm palm flat on his lower back, and shuffled closer.Viktor’s kisses were wet, desperate, and when Yuuri pressed close he could feel Viktor’s arousal against his front, which did nothing to help his own arousal.

“Yuki, please,” Viktor said, and Yuuri broke the kiss, cupping Viktor’s face in both hands.

“Vitya,” he said seriously, pressing their foreheads together.“After your Eros performance, _I_ should be the one aroused.”

Viktor chuckled, brushing Yuuri’s bangs out of his eyes.“My Yuki,” he whispered hotly.“I’m not the only one who’s sexy out on the ice, even if I’m the only one trying.”

Yuuri leaned up and captured his lips in another kiss.“Wow,” Viktor said with a grin when they parted.

“Come on,” Yuuri whispered, studying Viktor with heavy lidded eyes.“Let’s continue this in the bedroom.”

Viktor had a wide grin on his face as Yuuri gently led him to the bedroom, but the grin turned into an expression of surprise when Yuuri pushed him down onto the bed before straddling him.“Wow,” Viktor breathed again, staring up at Yuuri with wide eyes, his hands coming to rest on Yuuri’s hips.

Yuuri smiled, and then leaned down and kissed Viktor, even as he fumbled with Viktor’s shirt.Viktor reached up to help him without breaking the kiss, and they managed to both get undressed with only a little fumbling.Yuuri began to trail kisses down Viktor’s jaw, even as Viktor’s hand wandered down his body.

“Mm, Yuki,” Viktor murmured, and Yuuri smiled against his boyfriend’s neck before kissing it.

They didn’t talk much after that.

By the time Yuuri and Viktor were finished, sated and curled up in each other’s arms, it was much later out.

“Yuki, you’re amazing,” Viktor murmured, pressing his nose against Yuuri’s bare shoulder.

Yuuri laughed, wrapping one arm around Viktor and pulling him close.“So are you,” he whispered.

Viktor planted a kiss on Yuuri’s collarbone, gentle and reverent.“I love you,” he murmured, and Yuuri kissed the top of his head before replying, “I love you too, Viten’ka.”

“Yuki,” Viktor said slowly, tracing figure eights on Yuuri’s chest with his fingertip.“In the park earlier…” He looked up, and even in the dim light of their hotel bedroom Yuuri could tell that his boyfriend was blushing.“Um, I know it’s too soon now,” Viktor said quietly.“Probably too soon to even think about it, really.But I’ve never fallen so in love with _anyone_ before.And I… I want to stay close to you for as long as I can.Maybe even my whole life.Your whole life.”

Yuuri swallowed hard.“So I was right,” he breathed.Any louder would have felt wrong.“It _was_ a marriage proposal.”

Viktor grinned sheepishly.“I guess so.”

Yuuri slid down in bed a little so that they were face to face, their noses brushing.“Yes,” he whispered, even as his heart cracked in his chest.“Yes, one day, I want to marry you.”

“Not for a while, maybe, not until we’ve been together for longer,” Viktor said, giving Yuuri a wide, heart-shaped grin.“But _someday_.” He leaned forward and gave Yuuri a sweet, tender kiss.“My darling, I love you _so_ much,” Viktor whispered.

Yuuri blinked back tears, and pulled Viktor close so he wouldn’t see.“I love you too.”

And Yuuri did.He loved Viktor so much it hurt, and he knew that even after Viktor found out the truth, after Viktor left, Yuuri would still love him.

If only Viktor didn’t love a lie.

If only Viktor didn’t want to _marry_ a lie.

And if Yuuri cried, just a little- no one but Viktor would ever know.But as much as Yuuri hated to admit it, he didn’t have the strength to deal with the mess that his relationship would become, not yet.All he wanted to do was rest with Viktor, revel in his boyfriend’s love while he still had it. And so Yuuri finally drifted off to sleep, content in his love’s arms.

 

That contentment was broken only a few hours later, when Yuuri jolted awake with a start, every nerve afire.

It took him less than a second to fixate on what had awoken him, every ounce of his attention focused on the cold metal muzzle of a gun pressed to his forehead by a shadow that loomed above.

“Don’t move.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
>  
> 
> [I will be out of town for a few days](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/post/176110072728/hey-idk-whos-paying-attention-but-i-will-be-out), so I can't guarantee exactly when the next chapter will be, but let's start with aiming for ~~July 31st~~ August 3rd. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions if you have any or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a wonderful day, dear reader!


	22. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everything falls apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is... much later than I had promised, whoops. I had a lot to catch up on after my trip (and then was having some computer trouble and couldn't post last night like I intended), so I really appreciate the patience! ~~Especially after that cliffhanger!~~
> 
> That said... this chapter is a bit on the short side, but hopefully there's enough excitement ;D And an extra special shoutout to everyone who tolerated my ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯s and ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)s for so long, yall are the real mvps! Hope this chapter answers some of those questions!
> 
>  **TRIGGER WARNING:** Notes about violence in the end notes (for spoilers), _please_ read if you think it might be an issue. There is also some discussion of anxiety in this chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor awoke in the middle of the night to Yuki’s frantic heartbeat in his ears.He shifted in bed, and immediately Yuki grabbed his shoulder, stilling him.

“Vitya,” he said in the barest whisper.“Please don’t move.”

Viktor frowned, and squinted.The hotel room was dim, little light filtering in from the outside, but when Viktor tried he thought he could make out shadows around then, shadows that almost looked human.“What’s going on?” he murmured.

“Nikiforov,” a familiar voice said.“Turn on the light by your bed.Do not run or scream.”

Eyes wide, Viktor reaches over and fumbled for the lamp on the table beside his bed, flicking it on.Sure enough, the shadows around them _were_ human.

Accompanied by two other strange men, Yakov Feltsman was in their hotel room.

And he was holding a gun to a terrified-looking Yuki’s forehead.

“Yakov!” Viktor exclaimed angrily.“What the fuck are you doing?”

Yakov gave Viktor a dangerous look.“It would be to your advantage to listen to me, unless you want your boyfriend dead,” he said.

Viktor made eye contact with Yuki.The younger man was clearly scared- his hands were trembling, his breathing quick- but despite that his eyes were hard when he said, “Run, Vitya.”

Viktor hesitated.

There was a click as Yakov turned off the safety on his gun, and Viktor could tell by the way that Yuki winced that the weapon had been pressed harder against his forehead.Viktor swallowed hard.He would _not_ leave Yuki alone with these people, no matter what.He would _not_ let Yuki die.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Viktor whispered.He had to be sure.“Georgi is innocent.It was you all along- the threats, everything.It was you.”He looked up at his coach with wide, furious eyes, hoping against hope that he was somehow wrong. 

But there was no warmth in Yakov’s eyes as he replied firmly, “It was me.”

Viktor’s world shattered around him, and his heart cracked in his chest as his breath left him in one small, defeated puff. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning every other sound out, his mouth dry.

_It was Yakov.It had always been Yakov.The entire time._ The man Viktor had trusted like a father had _betrayed_ him, sold him out.And now he and Yuki were going to die. Because of Yakov. 

Viktor inhaled slowly, let it out through his nose.“I’m listening,” he said quietly.

“Vitya,” Yuki whispered, tears in his eyes.“Please save yourself.”

Viktor gazed at his love, hoping that his eyes held the message he wanted to convey.He would find a way out of this, for the both of them.It was his fault that they were in this situation at all.Yuki was completely innocent, a bystander.He didn’t deserve to get dragged into anything.

“Stand up, and get yourself dressed,” Yakov said flatly.“Get clothes for your boyfriend too.I will not hesitate to put a bullet through... _Nakamura’s_ skull if you do anything out of the ordinary.”

Viktor nodded.“I understand.”

Very slowly, telegraphing his movements, he got out of bed.Immediately the other two men with Yakov shifted, and as if for the first time Viktor noticed that they were both holding guns as well, one trained on him and the other on Yuki, still in bed.“I hope you understand that the same goes for you, Nakamura,” Yakov said slowly.“One wrong move and we will kill Nikiforov.”

“I understand,” Yuki whispered, his voice cracking.Viktor bent over and made his way to where he and Yuki had left their clothes crumpled on the floor in a heap, fishing out both their underwear.“Here,” he said softly, tossing Yuki’s on the bed, and then slowly pulled his own on before walking with hands in the air to the suitcase.The gun trained on him moved to follow.Viktor slowly took out a shirt and pair of pants, and then quickly pulled them on before fetching clothes for Yuki and setting them back on the bed.

“Get dressed, Nakamura,” Yakov said, nudging him with the gun.One of the other men stepped forward and pressed his gun to Viktor’s forehead, cold and hard.

Cheeks stained red, Yuki quickly dressed before getting out of bed.Yakov gestured, and the third man quickly crossed the room and hooked an arm around Yuki’s throat, pressing the muzzle on the gun under his chin.The other man did the same to Viktor, and Viktor choked slightly before relaxing as best he could.

Yakov fished around in the pocket of his trench coat before pulling out a few strips of cloth in a sealed plastic bag.Viktor watched silently as Yakov removes one of the strips of cloth and, before he could blink, pressed it over Yuki’s nose and mouth.Yuki struggled, his limbs jerking, and then went limp.

“Yuki!” Viktor choked out before the man behind him stifled him, one dirty hand over his mouth.Viktor just barely resisted the urge to bite the hand and stopped struggling when the gun pressed harder against his throat, watching helplessly as Yuki was blindfolded and gagged, his wrists bound with rope and metal handcuffs.He was terrifyingly slack the entire time.

When Yuki was all tied up Yakov crossed the room to Viktor, pressing a different cloth to his nose.Viktor choked, catching a whiff of some strong chemical that made his vision swim, and then forced himself to relax and collapsed bonelessly in his captor’s arms.If they thought he was unconscious, it could give him an advantage, he decided.

The world swam in and out of focus around Viktor as he was restrained the same way as Yuki, and his head spun and pounded as he was heaved up and essentially carried out.Whatever they had tried to drug him with hadn’t managed to knock him out completely, but he was weak and disoriented enough not to be able to move or cry out behind the gag in his mouth.

Viktor felt as he was carried into some sort of elevator that rattled as it carried them down, and tried to fight back sick panic as he was hauled out of the hotel and outside, if the cold air and light rain against his bare arms was anything to go by.  He tried to concentrate against the desperate urge to go to sleep in the hopes that this would all just be an awful nightmare that would vanish when he awoke, and counted the steps of the man carrying him as they walked.

Fifty, fifty one, fifty two steps away from the hotel they stopped, and Viktor heard the beep of a vehicle being unlocked before he was deposited none too gently on a rough metal floor of what was probably a van. There was the thump of a body next to him, and then a door slammed closed uncomfortably close to his head.Faintly, Viktor heard the other doors of the van open and shut, and a moment later the engine started, humming through the car.

Viktor muffled a grunt as the van jerked backwards and his head hit the door, and then closed his eyes behind his blindfold and tried to organize his thoughts.It was difficult to think, between the drugs making his head fuzzy and slow and the blind panic that made his breath quick and his heart pound.The gag in his mouth, a ball of cloth held over his tongue by another strip of fabric, made it kind of hard to breathe, and Viktor choked with panic before carefully counting, trying to regulate his breathing.

They had been driving for a while before Viktor finally managed to get his breathing fairly normal again, his panic mostly bottled up for the time being.He could panic later.Right now, he had to find a way to save Yuki.

_Yuki_.

Viktor carefully edged himself away from the door as best he was able, trying to make as little sound as possible, and tried to remember.He had heard a thump to his left.That must be where Yuki was.

Viktor tried to roll, getting halfway before landing uncomfortably on his bound hands, the handcuffs biting painfully into the sensitive skin of his wrists.He muffled a pained grunt and pushed harder, rolling onto his back before arching his spine so his entire weight wasn’t on his hands.Next to him, over the rumble of the van’s engine, Viktor heard a scuffle and then a pained, confused groan.

Eyes wide, staring blindly into the darkness over his eyes, Viktor pushed himself into his stomach again, landing half on top of the warm body next to him.The body flinched, and then Yuki relaxed slightly.If Viktor was guessing correctly based on his boyfriend’s slow, sluggish movements, Yuki was awake but disoriented, probably terrified and maybe even panicking.

Viktor felt around with his bound hands before he felt skin under his pinky finger if he stretched.Slowly, carefully, he stroked the small piece of Yuki’s arm that he could reach, and then tried to trace a rather lopsided heart.

Yuki relaxed just a bit more, and shifted a little closer until Viktor could feel his boyfriend’s foot against his leg.Viktor scooted as best he could and blindly pressed his face to what was probably the top of Yuki’s head.Yuki tapped his foot against Viktor’s leg in what was probably supposed to be a comforting way, and Viktor fought back a sob.If he cried and got all stuffed up, it would be even harder to breathe.

Yuki was still tapping his foot against Viktor’s leg, in what Viktor decided was probably the closest to a hug that he could give, and he replied with a couple of taps and another clumsy heart near Yuki’s elbow before settling down, trying to regulate his breathing again.

Time seemed to blur, and maybe Viktor passed out for a little bit, but when Viktor opened his eyes again behind the blindfold the van was still driving, now along what felt like a highway.Yuki was still tapping his foot against Viktor’s leg, long-long-long-short-long-short and Viktor’s eyes widened as his mind flashed to the summer he had sprained his knee and, bored while sitting out of an entire season of figure skating, had taught himself French, Russian sign language, and Morse code.

Trying his best to call to mind what he had learned that summer about Morse code, Viktor translated Yuki’s taps into letters: -R S E ? M O R S E ? M O R S E ?

Quickly, against the skin of Yuki’s arm, Viktor tapped, Y E S M O R S E.

Immediately, Yuki changed his pattern.O K ?

Viktor swallowed hard.Y E S O K.Y O U ?

Y E S, Yuki replied, and Viktor couldn’t help the wave of pure relief that flooded his chest.It took him a moment to realize that Yuki wasn’t done.

I H A V E A P L A N, Yuki told him, and Viktor paused before replying, P L A N ?

He thought he heard Yuki make a small sound, almost like a laugh, and then his love tapped out, T R U S T M E ?

A L W A Y S, Viktor replied immediately.

Yuki was still for a moment, and then he tapped slowly, deliberately, I L Y S M.

Tears sprung to Viktor’s eyes unbidden, a sob catching in his throat.I L Y S M T O O, he replied with trembling fingers.

Yuki gently rubbed the back of his foot up and down Viktor’s leg and then pressed close.Trembling, Viktor tried to pat his love on the arm, wincing when the handcuffs dug into his skin again.

God, he should have just quit figure skating when those threats had told him to.If he had, then maybe Yuki wouldn’t be in so much danger.It was all Viktor’s fault.And he knew, if he had to, that he would willingly die to keep his sweet, blameless Yuki alive.

As if Yuki could sense his troubling thoughts he pressed closer again, trying to nuzzle against Viktor’s chest.Viktor’s heart swelled with love and fear.His Yuki was so sweet, so selfless, and because of Viktor he could die.

Seconds bled together as they drove, and Viktor began to zone out.He might have fallen asleep for a while, or maybe he just passed out, but immediately jolted awake when the van finally came to a stop, the engine shutting off after another long moment.

Viktor held his breath, frozen.By his side, Yuki did the same.Viktor could faintly hear footsteps crunching in what sounded like gravel, and then the door to the van opened.Viktor squinted hard, but couldn’t detect any trace of light seeping through his blindfold.A moment later a hand grabbed his arm, and he was jerked to his feet and all but pulled out of the van, stumbling a little before getting to his feet.

Before Viktor could get his bearings he was marched away from the van, Yuki somewhere behind him.If the sound of wind in leaves and the soft shuffle of animals in the brush around then was any indication, they weren’t in Boston anymore.But without knowing which direction they had driven, Viktor had no idea where they were.It felt like they had driven for hours, maybe two or three.Viktor’s knowledge of American geography wasn’t the best, but he suspected that it meant that they weren’t in Boston’s state anymore.

Viktor stumbles slightly over an uneven part in the path he was being forced down, and was jerked painfully to his feet.“Don’t expect me to carry you, Nikiforov,” the man at his back snarled in his ear.“You’ve caused enough trouble anyway, it’d be easier if you were dead.”  Viktor’s breath caught in his throat, and he did his best to keep steady.

After a few moments of walking on a rough, uneven path the quality of the air changed around him at the same time his feet his stone, and Viktor could tell that he was inside.Viktor was led through several rooms before he was suddenly forced into a chair, his arms secured behind him.He heard a grunt and a creak next to him as the same thing happened to Yuki, and then the blindfold was torn from his face. 

***

Yuuri was disoriented, blinking hard in the light after the blindfold over his eyes was abruptly removed.He took a short moment, gathering his bearings as best he could.

He was seated in an uncomfortable wooden chair, his arms handcuffed and tied painfully tight behind him, straining the muscles in his shoulders.Next to him Viktor sat in much the same position, clearly similarly disoriented.Yuuri’s heart lurched when he noticed the dried tear tracks on his boyfriend’s cheeks.In front of the both of them was a low wooden table, set in the center of a small, grimly room whose only window was covered with a piece of tarp from the outside.

And across from them, on the other side of the table, stood Yakov, the two other men who had helped with the kidnapping, and a man with greying dark hair and cruel, shrewd eyes that could only be Sergey Markov.

When Yuuri caught his eye, Markov gave him a sharp, dangerous smile.“Hello, Mr. Nikiforov,” Markov said to Viktor, leaning forward slightly.

Viktor licked his lips, eyes wide. “Do I know you?” he whispered.

Markov’s cold smile widened.“Probably not,” he admitted.“My name is Sergey Markov.It was on my orders that you were sent threats, and on my orders that you were kidnapped.”

Viktor’s eyes flicked to Yakov, and his expression hardened.“You mean you convinced that bastard to betray me?”

Markov chuckled cruelly.“It didn’t take much convincing,” he replied.

Viktor flinched slightly, and Yakov lowered his eyes.“Please,” Viktor begged hoarsely.“I don’t know what you want, but Yuki has nothing to do with this.Let him go, and then you can do whatever you want with me.”

Markov’s smile disappeared, his eyes glittering sadistically.“On the contrary, Mr. Nikiforov,” he said.“He’s been dragged into this because _you_ would not retire when we told you to.”

Viktor took several deep, shuddering breaths, and Yuuri wished he could reach out to comfort his love, just a bit.“Please,” Viktor whispered.“I’ll do anything.”

Markov made eye contact with Yuuri again, and Yuuri shuddered at what he saw.At that moment, he knew for certain that, if Markov had any say in the matter, he and Viktor would die.They had been brought here to die.

Yuuri fought back tears.They wouldn’t help.It would only scare Viktor more, and it would do nothing to save him.

“This kidnapping venture has cost me considerably, in both time and money,” Markov said.“I went through a great deal of trouble to come to the United States to ensure that everything went according to plan. It’s only fair to think that you should suffer in return.You can die knowing that your boyfriend’s murder was completely your fault.”He smiled again, all teeth.“Or you can die knowing that, perhaps, it _wasn’t_ all your fault.”

He fished in his pocket before pulling out a wallet, opening it before placing it face down.Yuuri swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the wallet on the table.He recognized it.It was his real one.The one with his real ID.His Interpol badge.His name. _They knew who he was_. 

“What is your name?” Markov asked Yuuri.“Who do you work for?”

Yuuri glared steadily at him, stubborn.“My name is Nakamura Yuki.I’m a competitive figure skater.”

A muscle twitched in Markov’s jaw.“It would be best to tell the truth,” he said.“Before we start forcefully removing fingernails.”

Yuuri inhaled slowly through his nose, exhaled slowly through his mouth.“I am telling the truth,” he said steadily.

“I didn’t mean _your_ fingernails,” Markov said, squinting.He cast a very significant look in Viktor’s direction.“I’ll ask you one more time.What is your name?Who do you work for?”

Yuuri swallowed hard around the horrible lump in his throat.He had been trained to withstand torture, but he knew Viktor hadn’t.He had to protect Viktor, at all costs, even if it meant blowing his cover.His cover didn’t mean much anymore.Not if he was prepared to die if it would help Viktor.“My name is Katsuki Yuuri,” he whispered. “And I work for Interpol.”

Markov smiled, and turned over the wallet to reveal Yuuri's Interpol badge, still clipped inside.

“Yuki?” Viktor whispered.Yuuri studiously avoided his eyes, shame flooding his stomach.

“And why did you decide to take part in a figure skating competition, or all things?” Markov pressed.

Yuuri looked up, and not for the first time he wished looks _could_ really kill.It would make his job a lot easier, at least.

A bit behind Markov, Yakov made eye contact with Yuuri before nodding slightly, as if giving Yuuri _permission_ to spill everything.Yuuri’s lip curled as he bristled.Yakov had no right to make such a gesture.But it was probably a bit useful to know, at least, that he had betrayed them completely.

“Katsuki?” Markov prompted.

Yuuri gritted his teeth and then said in a low voice, “I was assigned by Interpol to go undercover as a figure skater and protect Viktor Nikiforov from getting hurt.”

“ _Yuki_ ,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri could hear the tears in his voice.

“And that’s why your started dating Nikiforov as well, isn’t it?” Markov said with a wide, crazed smile.

Yuuri’s eyes widened.“That’s not-!”

“So you see, Nikiforov,” Markov interrupted.“There’s no use in trying to protect this man.He doesn’t care about you at all.He never loved you.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri said helplessly.Viktor refused to look at him.

Markov leaned back again and crossed his arms over his chest.“No one has ever loved you.”

Yuuri lurched forward, tugging at his bonds.“Shut up!” he yelled.“Stop trying to hurt him!It’s not true, you’re lying, it’s not-”

There was a click, and then one of the men with Markov stepped around the table and pressed his gun to Viktor’s head."Katsuki," Markov said coldly."Do I need to gag you again?"

Blinking back tears of frustration, Yuuri relaxed against the back of the chair again.Markov smiled in satisfaction."That's what I thought," he said.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled and exhaled slowly several times, trying to calm himself down.Ears ringing, heart thundering in his chest, he heard Viktor say, “What do you want from me?”

Without looking up, Yuuri could tell that Markov was smirking.“I told you,” he said.“I want you to suffer.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Viktor said levelly, but Yuuri was sure he wasn’t the only one who noticed Viktor’s voice crack and tremble.

Markov scratched at the stubble on his chin.“A variety of reasons,” he said."For one, I really couldn't have you winning the Figure Skating World Championships.I would have lost a fair amount of money."

"Money?" Viktor whispered in reply.

Yuuri winced.The only reason Markov was telling them so much was because he was going to kill them.But Viktor asking so many questions probably didn’t help matters much.

Markov arched an eyebrow."Surely you know how high the stakes are in betting on your sport," he said.

Viktor opened his mouth, closed it again.“No?” 

Markov chuckled.“Very well.I can… elaborate.The amount of money I’m going to get is… to die for.”His smirk melted into a sneer, and he said to his companions, “Get them out of my sight, lock them up somewhere where they won’t escape.Feltsman, stay.We have some terms we must discuss.”

His eyes lowered, Yakov nodded.The other two men rounded the table and efficiently untied Viktor and Yuuri before tugging them to their feet.The handcuffs remained on Yuuri, but Viktor’s were removed and he wasted no time in rubbing at his wrists.

Yuuri glanced around and tried to evaluate the chances of fighting back and getting free, but he knew that the outcome wouldn’t be good for Viktor.And, above all, his job was to protect Viktor at any cost.  He needed to keep telling himself that.  Maybe if he promised himself enough that Viktor would make it out of this alright, he would start to believe it.

Viktor made eye contact with Yuuri before very deliberately looking away again, an expression of feigned, cold indifference on fixed upon his face.Yuuri tried not to let the sob welling up in his chest escape as he and his love were marched down a set of concrete steps to a small, confined room illuminated only by a tiny barred window too high up on the wall to reach, through which weak grey dawn light leaked.

“Stay,” one of the men said, shoving Yuuri so hard that his face almost hit the opposite wall, and then they were up the steps and the door was slammed shut behind them with a clang of metal, the deadbolt locking audibly a moment later.

The sob finally escaped from behind Yuuri’s lips, weak and pathetic, and his shoulders slumped.“I’m so sorry, Vitya,” Yuuri whispered without looking up.“I’m so sorry I didn’t prevent this.”

“You lied to me,” Viktor whispered, and Yuuri forced himself to raise his head.His heart broke at the pain in Viktor’s eyes, glinting in the dim light.

Yuuri nervously licked his dry lips.“I- I-”

Viktor surged forward, anger and grief distorting his features, and pinned Yuuri to the cold, damp wall behind him.“You _lied to me,”_ Viktor hissed, his eyes narrowed.“About _everything_.”

His breathing loud and ragged, Yuuri replied, “Not about everything.I didn’t lie about loving-”

“You didn’t even tell me your _name!”_ Viktor shouted.  "I was ready to  _die_ for you, and you didn't even tell me your  _name!"_

On instinct, Yuuri shoved Viktor away as best he could with his hands still restrained behind his back.Viktor stumbled away, pressing a hand to the wall to steady himself.“I cannot believe you,” he said hollowly, and then laughed.

Tears sprung, unexpectedly, to Yuuri’s eyes.He hadn’t ever heard Viktor laugh like that, bitter and… and _broken._

“I can’t believe _myself,”_   Viktor whispered.“For believing _you_.Interpol was laughing, I guess, at how easily I fell for you.Fell for a sham.”He looked up.“I guess I should have known.I knew there was _something,_ something you were holding back.I didn’t know it was _everything.”_

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, desperate to explain himself.His heart felt like it was cracking in two, shattered.

“No!” Viktor shouted, and Yuuri flinched.“No,” Viktor repeated again, quieter.He raised his head slowly,unshed tears in his eyes.“You don’t get to call me Vitya anymore,” he whispered.“Vitya is for the people I know.And Viten’ka is for the man I fell in love with.I don’t know _you_ at all.”

“Please,” Yuuri said helplessly.“You have to believe me, I never wanted to hurt you.”

“You never wanted to hurt me?” Viktor repeated angrily, his eyebrows drawn.For the first time, Yuuri noticed he was crying.Viktor held up his wrist, so Yuuri could see the bruised skin, cut and bleeding from the tight grip of the metal handcuffs he had been forced to wear.“Thanks,” Viktor spat.“You’re doing _wonderfully_ so far.”

Yuuri flinched.His body trembling, Viktor added, “That man, he said you were supposed to _protect_ me.Even when you lie for a year to get your job done, you can’t even do it _well_.”

“It might have been easier if you had asked for some _fucking_ help,” Yuuri snapped, stepping forward.Viktor’s eyes widened.

“People have _died_ because you wouldn’t let the police do their jobs,” Yuuri said, anger burning hot and bright in his chest, fueled by hurt.“Why do you think they had to send an undercover agent?”

“I might have been better off with the police,” Viktor replied, his voice hard and loud and harsh.“Then at least I wouldn’t have slept with someone who decided it was a great idea to lie to me about everything for _months_.”

Yuuri gritted his teeth, anger making him insensible.“I don’t know, you still might have ended up sleeping with an officer,” he replied.

Viktor’s eyes widened further, and he recoiled almost comically.“You really aren’t who I thought you were,” he said.The anger had drained out of his voice, replaced by hurt.He sounded choked up, on the brink of more tears.

Yuuri hates himself, then, for everything.For lying, for not doing his job right, for not stopping the kidnappers.For making Viktor cry.

“I guess I really did fall in love with a lie,” Viktor said softly, turning away.

Yuuri swallowed hard.His heart was in pieces, smashed to smithereens.But, despite his heartbreak, Yuuri knew that he would still die for Viktor.If only he could die without knowing what it felt like to hurt the one man he had ever fallen in love with.“Maybe you did fall in love with a lie,” he repeated numbly.

Viktor pressed a hand to his mouth and stifled a sob, leaning against the wall before sinking down, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut when he heard Viktor trying to stifle his crying.He couldn’t leave, couldn’t give Viktor any kind of privacy, but he would do his damndest to help preserve the last tattered shreds of his love’s dignity.

After standing for a while Yuuri sat as well, shifting to get comfortable on the cement floor.He closed his eyes again once he was settled and tried to shut out the sound of his boyfriend crying.He knew that Viktor probably wouldn’t appreciate comfort at the moment, especially from him.They probably weren’t even _boyfriends_ anymore, come to think.There was no way Viktor would want to be with Yuuri, not after everything that had happened.All he could do was hope that maybe, just maybe, Viktor wouldn’t hate everything about him for the rest of his life.Although, the way things were going, the rest of his life probably wouldn’t be very long.

Viktor’s crying petered off after a while, and they both stewed in silence for what felt like hours.The burning anger that had fueled Yuuri through his argument with Viktor had faded, leaving him feeling tired and hollow, but he couldn’t shake the hurt that soured his stomach and made his breath a bit shorter than normal.

Maybe it had been a mistake to fall in love, not that it was something he could have helped.But maybe he had been a fool to think that things between himself and Viktor would actually work out, in the end.It was an inevitability that Viktor would find out about who Yuuri really was, who he really worked for.He should have known that their relationship was doomed from the start.He had known.He had just chosen to ignore it.And that had been incredibly stupid.

In all honesty, he couldn’t really imagine a future where he and Viktor both got out of this, their relationship unscathed.And that _terrified_ him.The thought of losing everything scared him far more than he would ever care to admit.He hated that fear.It made him weak, insensible, irrational.And, above all, he would need to be rational if he wanted to save Viktor.

“So,” Viktor said quietly, from across the room.“What’s your name, if it’s not Nakamura Yuki?Katsuki Yuuri?”

Yuuri bit his lip, raising his eyes to gaze at Viktor, barely able to pick him out in the gloom.Viktor still had his head buried in his knees, arms crossed in front of his face, which explained the muffled quality of his voice.

“That’s right,” Yuuri whispered.“My name is Katsuki Yuuri.”

“So were you actually an ice skater?” Viktor asked dully.“Or was that information Interpol planted on the internet somehow for me to find to make your backstory seem more believable and relatable?”

Yuuri inhaled, exhaled.“I was a figure skater, for more than ten years,” he said.“All of the footage you found of me is real.I did actually win the Junior World Championships my last season.”

“Why did you quit?” Viktor said.

Yuuri shifted in an effort to prevent his arms from falling asleep behind him, and then said slowly, “You know I have anxiety.”

“What, that wasn’t a lie?” Viktor said.He didn’t sound angry anymore, just… tired.

Because of that, Yuuri kept his voice even as he replied, “No, that wasn’t a lie.I really do have anxiety.” He stretched out his legs in front of him, leaning his head back against the wall as best he was able.

“My anxiety was a lot worse when I was younger,” he said.“I wasn’t even diagnosed until I was sixteen, actually, but even knowing what it was, what made me how I am… it didn’t help much.Skating has always been a double edged sword, for me.When my anxiety got bad I would go to the rink close to my house as a teenager and skate figures for hours on end, or try to relax by fooling around with choreography or copying other skaters’ routines just to see if I could.But competitions?They made everything worse.”

Yuuri let out a shaky laugh.“During my last season, the season before I quit competitive skating for good, I was a wreck before competitions.I couldn’t eat, I could barely sleep, I had frequent panic attacks up to a week before the competition started and even after I couldn’t think of much more than the mistakes I had made.As much as I loved skating, it was hurting me.I quit for my own good.Before anything could get worse, and skating was ruined completely for me.”

Yuuri lowered his chin, trying to rub the tear rolling down his cheek off on his shoulder."I did lie, about Katsuki Yuuri being my idol,” he admitted.“That was you.I wanted to skate on the same ice as you, so badly it hurt.And this season, I finally got the chance.Too little too late, I guess.”

“And did you plan on seducing me?” Viktor mumbled.“Did you think being with me would make your job easier?”

Yuuri chuckled bitterly.“I never planned on falling in love,” he said.“I didn’t even anticipate it.”

Viktor slid down to the floor, curling up with his back to Yuuri.“Then I guess that was your first mistake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes about violence: Two (main) characters are repeatedly threatened at gunpoint, drugged, tied up and kidnapped, and verbally threatened with lethal and nonlethal harm.
> 
> I CAN EXPLAIN I PROMISE
> 
>  ~~don't @ me i added the angst with a happy ending tag for a reason~~  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I'm hoping to have the next chapter up on or around August ~~17th~~ 31st. Until then, thanks for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a fabulous day, dear reader!


	23. When To Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which sacrifices are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone.... first off, I'm very, very sorry that this chapter is so late. Life has kind of gotten away with me a bit, and I haven't been the best about doing the things I need to do when I need to do them. But! I'm really going to try to go back to biweekly updates for the rest of the fic, so we'll see how that goes. Thank you all so much for your patience and support, it means the world to me <3
> 
> That said... TRIGGER WARNINGS: Warnings for violence in the end notes. There's also like... a lot of swearing in this one, idk
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and thank you all again for your patience!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Minami was still more than half asleep, caught in the tangle of an ill-advised nap, when someone began to pound on his hotel room door.It took him a moment to wake up completely, and another to stumble out of bed and answer.

“Minami, good, you’re up,” Minako said briskly, letting herself in as Minami blinked in dumb surprise.

“What is it?” he said through a yawn, raking his fingers through his hair.

“Mr. Chulanont,” Minako said in English, and for the first time Minami realized she was holding her phone.“Would you please repeat what you told me?From the beginning?”

“Um, sure,” said Yuuri’s friend through the phone, worry clear in his voice despite its slightly muffled quality.Minami frowned, and sat on the bed to listen.“I tried to text Yuuri, to see if he was interested in getting lunch or something, since I figured he and Viktor had probably slept in late,” Phichit said a little nervously.“I know he’s probably worried about Worlds, and I… I wanted to apologize for something.”

Minami’s eyes narrowed.“Apologize for what?” he said.

Phichit cleared his throat awkwardly.“I don’t think that really matters,” he said slowly.

Minami leaned forward.“Please tell us.  Let us be the judge of that.”

Minako raised her eyes, but didn’t intervene.Phichit coughed again.“I kind of… interrupted Viktor before he could propose to Yuuri?” he said sheepishly.Minami pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed quietly“I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, and it’s not like it would have gone down well anyway,” Phichit added quickly.“But I… regret what I did, and I wanted to apologize in person to Yuuri.”

Minami pressed his lips together.“Alright.And?” 

“He didn’t answer my texts,” Phichit said quietly.“So I went up to his and Viktor’s hotel room.They were sharing, and only a few floors above mine, and I thought maybe Yuuri was ignoring me because he was still mad at me, because-”

“Mr. Chulanont,” Minako said tightly.“Please get to the point, if you would?”

Phichit inhaled slowly, breath whistling.“Yuuri is not in his room,” he said.“Neither is Viktor.Their bed isn’t made, and their phones are both still on the table, plugged in.  When I tried the door, it was completely unlocked.I think something has happened to them.”

Minami frowned thoughtfully.“Maybe they just went out without you…?” he said, but he knew, somehow, that that probably wasn’t right.

Besides the fact than an unlocked hotel room door was relatively suspicious, Yuuri, even if he thought the threat to Viktor was passed, wouldn’t forget his phone while he was still technically undercover.He was just too well trained to do that, not when someone from Interpol or the police might need to contact him.Besides, part of the reason his fuckup in Shanghai had been so catastrophic was because of his failure to keep in contact with the authorities.He probably wouldn’t have forgotten his phone.

Minako made eye contact with him, and then said in a soft voice, “I’ve known Yuuri for longer, but you spend more time with him these days.”

Minami caught his lower lip between his teeth and sighed heavily.“I’m not sure,” he said.“I mean… it could be that something’s wrong.Or it could be that, since the threat is supposed to be done with, he’s let his guard down a bit and it just forgetful.”

Minako’s brow furrowed.“That doesn’t seem like him, though,” she pointed out.“Yuuri is conscientious.Especially after everything that’s happened.”

“I agree,” Minami said quietly.“It might warrant investigation, at least.”

“Um…” Phichit said uncertainly.

With a sharp nod, steel in her eyes, Minako switched back to English to say, “Minami and I will be at your hotel in twenty minutes.Until then, leave Yuuri’s hotel room without touching anything and wait outside.If anyone tries to get in, don’t let them.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Phichit said slowly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Minako snapped.“Say they’re fucking, if you must.Just keep the scene clear until we get there.”

Phichit paused, almost like he was going to protest, and then said softly, “I understand.”

Minako hung up the phone without another word and said to Minami, “What do you think?”

Minami rubbed his face, suddenly exhausted.“Minako, if Yuuri ever finds out you told Phichit to inform hotel staff that he and Viktor are having sex in order to keep them out of the room, he’s going to murder you with his bare hands,” he said finally.“But in all honesty, I suspect we’re going to have larger problems to deal with.”

Minako sighed.She sounded like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.For all Minami knew, maybe she did.“Get dressed and meet me in the hall in five minutes,” she said.“Bring your gun and badge in case we end up needing to clear a crime scene.”

Minami nodded, jumping up and fetching his clothes as soon as Minako left.

In the end it took Minami and Minako closer to half an hour minutes to get to the hotel where the skaters at Worlds had been put up, and by the time they reached Yuuri’s hotel room Phichit had worked himself up into something close to a panic.

“Did anyone come up here?” Minako asked as she and Minami approached, and Phichit shook his head, springing to his feet.

“No!” he exclaimed, and then added, “Thank goodness you’re here, I thought something had happened to you.”

Minako paused, and then clapped Phichit on the shoulder.“You should stick to figure skating, I think,” she said.

Phichit blinked, and then said in a slightly quieter voice, “Yeah, I don’t think doing what Yuur-what _Yuki_ does would be good for me after all.”

The ghost of a smile flitted across Minako’s face for a moment, and then she nodded.“You’re already touched the doorknob, I assume?” she said.

Phichit nodded sheepishly.“Um.Sorry if I wasn’t supposed to.” Minako shrugged, and fished a cloth out of her pocket before opening the door to the hotel room.

“In all honesty, everything is probably fine,” Minami whispered to Phichit as he passed.“But on the off chance that there is something wrong after all it’s best not to touch anything, in case there’s any evidence that could be used to prove foul play.”

Phichit nodded.“Should I… Should I stay out here, or…?”

Minami glanced over his shoulder, but Minako had already disappeared into the hotel room.“Either come into the room or go back to your own,” Minami decided.“To have you just hanging around the entrance is noticeable, and we probably want to avoid that.”

Phichit nodded.“I’ll stay.”He eyed Minami curiously, and then said, “I don’t think we’ve met.My name is Phichit Chulanont, I’m Yuuri’s friend.You probably know that.”He looked down, shuffled his feet.“You’re, um…?”

Minami gave him a quick bow.“Minami Kenjirou,” he said, and then lowered his voice before adding, “Obviously I work for Interpol.Same division as Yuuri.”

Phichit studied him searchingly.“You seem young.”

Minami tried not to let the indignation show on his face.“I’m twenty,” he said.“Not much younger than how old you thought Yuuri-san was.”

Phichit blinked.“He’s not twenty one… well, twenty two, now.He lied about that too?”

Minami shrugged.“He’s twenty four,” he replied.“Not that it much matters.It’s not like you’ll be allowed to tell anyone.”He gave Phichit what he hoped was a stern, forbidding look.

Phichit nodded seriously.“I understand.”

“Minami?” Minako called.

“Come on,” Minami said with a small smile, beckoning him into the hotel room.“Just please don’t touch anything.”

Phichit nodded, following him into the hotel room.They found Minako standing in the center, looking disapprovingly around the room with her hands on her hips.“It’s a pity he didn’t wear his jacket,” she said, jerking her chin in the direction of Yuuri’s coat, draped over a chair.“There’s a tracker in the sleeve.If something really has happened to him, we could have found him.”

“A tracker?” Phichit repeated, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Minako gave him a sharp look.“Merely a precaution.Yuuri consented to it, of course.”

Minami dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Yuuri’s number.A moment later, one of the phones by the bed began to buzz, rattling slightly against the wood of the table.

“I told you,” Phichit said.

Minami said in soft Japanese, turning away from Phichit a bit, “Is there any other way to contact Yuuri?”

Minako sighed heavily.“No, not that I know of.He doesn’t have his phone, he can’t be tracked…”She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.“At this point, we have nothing to prove or even suspect that anything is amiss, just that Yuuri is being irresponsible.”She gestured at the bed, still unmade and clearly slept in.“People who don’t know Yuuri well may assume that this kind of… recklessness is normal.”Her lips pinched in a little, making her look much older than normal.“Not everyone is happy that he is fraternizing with the man he was supposed to protect.Some saw it as unprofessional.”

Minami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.“Unfortunate, but not surprising.”His phone began to buzz in his pocket, and without looking Minami silenced it.“What should we do?” he asked.“Is there any way _Interpol_ could contact him?”

Minako rubbed at her temple, thinking.“I don’t know, I don’t think so,” she said.“They can’t ping his phone because it’s here, no way to track him, no real reason to believe something has even happened to him…”She shrugged helplessly.“Sorry, Phichit,” she said in English.“There’s not a whole lot we can do.If Yuuri is in trouble, he’d figure out a way to let us know.He’s smart like that.”

Phichit nodded reluctantly.“I understand,” he said.

Minami’s phone buzzed again, and this time he pulled it out to glance at the number.

“Who is it?” Minako asked, giving him a sideways glance.

“No one I know,” Minami sighed.But there weren’t too many people outside of Interpol who knew his number.With a frown Minami answered the phone.“Hello, who is this?” he asked in Japanese.

“Kenji,” said a very familiar voice.“It’s Yuuri.”

Minami looked up with wide eyes, and Minako stared back at him.“It’s Yuuri,” he whispered.

***

“Do you know why they’re keeping us alive?” Viktor said into the still, stagnant air of the basement.

Yuuri stirred against the wall before sitting up, stifling his groan.He had no idea how long he and Viktor had been there, but it felt like hours.Or maybe having his hands painfully restrained behind his back made time seem to pass slower.

“Why they’re keeping us alive?” Yuuri repeated.“I have no idea.”He cracked his eyes open, squinting in the gloom.Across the room Viktor was sprawled out, his legs stretched in front of him, head leaning against the wall.

“We’ve seen all of their faces,” Viktor said dully.“Markov even told us his goddam name.It’s only a matter of time until they kill us to keep us quiet.”He didn’t sound scared at the prospect, more… resigned.As though he had given up hope.As though he had decided to surrender himself to his fate, heedless of the fact that hope wasn’t necessarily gone for them quite yet.

“Vitya- Viktor,” Yuuri corrected himself quickly.“Please listen to me.Please don’t give up quite yet.For all you know we’ll make it out of this.”Empty words, to be sure… but maybe they would do something to bolster Viktor’s spirit nonetheless.

Viktor lolled his head so that he was staring at Yuuri, something sparking in his eyes.“Don’t coddle me,” he said in irritation.“I can accept the fact that I’m going to die.I _have_ accepted it.Let me be.”

But despite his words, his voice shook, his hands trembled and clenched in his lap.

“Viktor,” Yuuri said helplessly.“I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you get out of this alive.”

Viktor ducked his head, eyeing the handcuffs around Yuuri's wrists.“All in your power, huh?” he replied.“ _That_ really gives me hope.”

Yuuri swallowed hard, licked his lips.“Fair enough,” he murmured.“But-”

Above them, the basement door banged open.“Still alive down there?” someone called as light from upstairs flooded down the steps.One of Markov’s henchmen.Neither Viktor nor Yuuri answered, and after a moment the man coughed, sounding annoyed.“Maybe you’ll talk better when we have a gun to the other’s head,” he said threateningly, and then clomped down the stairs.

“On your feet, Nikiforov,” he said in Russian, and then leaned in closer and added something quietly enough that Yuuri couldn’t make out his words.His eyes wide, Viktor nodded in agreement before extending his wrists in front of him.The man chuckled and clicked handcuffs on, and then turned to Yuuri.“Up the stairs,” he said in rough English.“One wrong move and Nikiforov will have a bullet through his head.”

Mouth dry, Yuuri nodded.With sharp prodding from the man behind him, Yuuri dragged himself up the steps, stumbling a little at the top.After even a couple of hours in that dark basement, it was hard to adjust.

Yuuri and Viktor were ushered into another room, and forced into chairs again, but this time one of Markov’s men took up a position behind Viktor, the muzzle of his gun pressed against Viktor’s temple.“Stay silent,” he warned, and they waited.

Yuuri was sure he was on the brink of a breakdown by the time Markov finally entered, tossing a cell phone up and down in one hand.“Ah, our esteemed guests,” he said mockingly.“I’m glad you’re still here.And not causing any trouble, I might add.Most excellent.”Yuuri gritted his teeth, bit his tongue to stay silent.

Markov pulled a chair from outside the room and then sat in front of them, studying them coldly.“Katsuki,” he said.“Is there any way for Interpol to track you?”

Yuuri stayed quiet until, at his side, Viktor made a muffled grunting sound.When Yuuri looked he saw the gun being pressed so hard into the side of Viktor’s head that it would surely leave a mark, Viktor’s arm muscles straining against the handcuffs as he tried to inch away.

“Nothing on me,” Yuuri said sullenly, his stomach sinking.

Maybe his superiors in Interpol had been right.Maybe falling in love with Viktor had been a mistake.It certainly put him at a disadvantage- he had displayed more than once that if Markov wanted something he wouldn’t willingly give, all that had to be done was threaten Viktor- but Yuuri… Yuuri refused to believe it was all bad.

Maybe falling in love had made him more vulnerable, but it also strengthened his resolve.If anything happened to Viktor, there would be absolutely no limits on his fury.Without Viktor Yuuri would be hollowed, become an empty shell of a man.There was no way to hurt a man that empty, but _many_ ways that such a man could hurt.

“Interpol… can track my phone,” Yuuri said thoughtfully.“But I left that at the hotel.And there’s a tracker in the sleeve of my jacket, but obviously…”He shrugged, trying in vain to stretch his sore shoulders.“Obviously I don’t have that with me, either.”

“And is there any way for the authorities to track Viktor?” Markov pressed, leaning forward with an almost hungry smile on his face.

Yuuri shook his head tiredly.“He doesn’t have his phone, and there weren’t any trackers planted in his belongings.”

“How fitting,” Markov said.“Ghosts in all but spirit.”He toyed with the cell phone in his hand.“No one to know where you disappeared.”

Viktor whimpered, low in his throat, and Yuuri longed to reach for him, to comfort him and hold him close and let him cry into his shoulder-

“Katsuki,” Markov said sharply.“I want you to call someone.Someone who can contact Interpol to pass on the message and who knows who you really are, but who is not directly connected and will therefore not have the resources to track the call.Tell them you and Viktor are perfectly fine, that you decided at the last minute to both quit figure skating and elope, or something.Tell them anything that will make them believe you are fine, and that they don’t need to look for you at all.Make it believable, and if you dare let them know that something is wrong… I’ll put a bullet through both of your skulls myself.The person you call will hear you both die.”

Yuuri nodded quickly.“I understand,” he said.“Can you take the handcuffs off me?”

“Absolutely not,” Markov scoffed.“Yakov filled us in on you, you know.I’m well aware that, without handcuffs, you could pose a danger to me.  Every precaution will be made to contain you. Now," he smiled in smug satisfaction.  "I’m going to put you on speaker, to ensure that you say nothing wrong.Give me a number to dial.”

Yuuri’s mind raced.This was his chance!This was his chance to get in contact with Interpol, to find some way to help Viktor.Even if Yuuri had to die, maybe Interpol would arrive in enough time to save his love. Yuuri took a deep breath and then rattled off a number, Minami’s phone number.

“Who does that number belong to?” Markov asked suspiciously.

Yuuri made eye contact, very carefully keeping the right amount of fear, anger, and innocence on his face.“My cousin, Matsui Kenji.He knows who I work for, and he can get in contact with my handler through official channels, but he doesn’t work for Interpol.”

Markov eyed him suspiciously.

“Call him, you’ll see,” Yuuri insisted.“He’s seventeen, he’s way too young to work for Interpol.”

Markov made eye contact with the man holding a gun to Viktor’s head, who nodded solemnly.The message was clear.If anything sounded wrong, Viktor would die before Interpol could even get close.

Markov carefully dialed the number Yuuri had told him and then put the phone on speaker.It rang once, and then went immediately to voicemail.Yuuri breathed a silent sigh of relief that Minami had never bothered to change his answering machine off an automated message in Japanese that didn’t say his name.

“Try again,” Yuuri insisted.“He… might busy right now?”In his head he tried to calculate the time difference to his supposed cousin in Japan, but it was hard to do without knowing the local time.“Or he could be asleep?” Yuuri offered.

Markov grunted, and dialed again.This time the phone rang three times before it was picked up with a brisk greeting in Japanese.Yuuri thanked his lucky stars that, as always, Minami sounded much younger over the phone.

“Kenji,” he said, stressing the name a little.“It’s Yuuri.”Hopefully Minami would pick up on the fact that something was off.Yuuri never called him Kenji.

“Yuuri?” Minami said after a long moment, and then his voice brightened.“Hey!I haven’t talked to you in a while!How are you doing?”

Yuuri smiled in smiled in spite of himself.Minami was smart, smarter than people gave him credit for.He knew to keep his voice light and young-sounding, and to affect an even thicker Japanese accent on his English than usual.“I’m alright,” Yuuri said.“How’s high school treating you?”

“Oh, classes are fine,” Minami said smoothly.“Is that why we’re speaking English?I _told_ okaasan not to tell you that I need practice!”

Yuuri laughed.“You got me,” he said.“She mentioned it last time I called home.”

“Yuuri is it true?” Minami said, and then dramatically lowered his voice.“That you’re working in _America?”_

Yuuri took a deep breath, his eyes darting up to Markov.Markov nodded slowly.

“I can’t say much about it,” he said.“But, actually, there’s a message I need you to pass on to my employer, when you get the chance.”

“Oh?” Minami said curiously.“Why don’t you call Minako yourself?”

“I’d get yelled at,” Yuuri said.“You can’t get in trouble, though, since you don’t work for the same people I do.”

“Riiiight,” Minami replied, something like realization dawning in his voice.“I mean, not yet, at least.I have to graduate first.”

“You shouldn’t join Interpol,” Yuuri said immediately.“It’s very dangerous.I don’t want something bad to happen to you or to the people you care about.”He jerked upright a little when the back of his chair was kicked, none too lightly.“A-anyway,” Yuuri stammered.“The thing I need to tell you.You know how I told you about Viktor Nikiforov?About how we’re together?”

“Right,” Minami said.“You’re so cool, Yuuri, to have such a famous boyfriend!”

Yuuri winced internally.Minami was laying it on just abit too thick.“Right, right,” he said.“Viktor and I decided to leave.We’re eloping.”

“Congratulations!” Minami exclaimed, sounding for all the world like an adoring, awestruck high schooler.“That’s amazing!I’m so happy for you!”

“We decided to quit our jobs, at least for a bit,” Yuuri added.“And well… since I know Interpol might be mad at me, we’re leaving our phones at home.But I don’t want my parents to worry.”

“Of course, I’ll tell everyone!” Minami promised.“Wow, my cousin is getting married to a _celebrity!”_

“Maybe I’ll bring him to Japan to visit sometime,” Yuuri said, his heart in his throat.“I’m sure he’d love to try some of my mom’s food.I think he’d really like katsudon.”

“Your mom is the best cook,” Minami said dreamily.“I should visit Kyushu more often.I miss her teriyaki, too.”

“Oh, her katsudon is much better,” Yuuri argued good naturedly.The back of his chair was kicked again, and Yuuri made ey contact with Markov.Markov glared back at him, his eyes hard.“Uh, sorry, I have to get going,” Yuuri blurted.

“Aw, so soon?” Minami complained.

“Yeah, Viktor’s about ready to leave,” Yuuri replied.“Just… pass on the message, please?We’re eloping, and we don’t want to be bothered.So please don’t look for us.”

“Of course,” Minami promised.“I’ll let Minako know next time I see her.She’s gonna be happy for you too, Yuuri!”

“Yep,” Yuuri croaked.

“Call again soon,” Minami ordered sternly.“Not this once a month crap.”

“Now you sound like your mom,” Yuuri chuckled. Minami made a small humphing noise.

“I’ll call when Viktor and I get back from our honeymoon,” Yuuri promised.

“Bye, Yuuri!” Minami said cheerfully.“Talk to you soon!”

The call ended, and Markov set down the phone.“Your cousin will be able to pass on the message?” he checked.

Yuuri nodded.“He can… well, he has ways to," he said.“He’ll contact my mom, who can contact Interpol directly.She’s my emergency contact.”

“Why didn’t you just call her?” Markov grumbled.“Could have done without all the drivel about high school classes and favorite foods.”

“My mom would know that something was wrong,” Yuuri said softly.The back of his throat hurt, and he felt like he was going to cry.

Markov nodded slowly, satisfied.“So Interpol will no longer be on our trail,” he said.“Good job, Katsuki.”

“Why are you keeping us alive?” Viktor blurted, and if Yuuri didn’t love him so much, if it wouldn’t have gotten one of them killed, he could have smacked a hand over Viktor’s mouth.

Markov raised an eyebrow, getting to his feet.“Why am I keeping you alive?” he repeated.“To gloat, I suppose.”

“Gloat?” Viktor said.“What the fuck is there to _gloat_ about?You’ve won.We’re dead anyway.”

Markov surged forward, clenching his hand in the front of Viktor’s shirt.Viktor choked as Markov hissed in frenzied Russian, “You cost me a great deal of money because you foolishly refused to quit your silly sport.I’m going to force you and your _boyfriend_ to watch the end of the World Championships, to watch as the gold medal is placed around the neck of someone who deserves it.And then I’m going to splatter your brains out against a wall and watch as the light fades from your eyes and you finally realize just how much you’ve _lost_.That’s the _only_ reason why you're still alive.”

Viktor made eye contact.“Fuck you,” he said.“I don’t lose.”

Markov pushed him back hard, and his henchman stepped away in time to let Viktor’s chair fall over backwards.Yuuri winced as Viktor’s head met the wood floor with a painful thud.

“Fuck you!” Viktor yelled, sounding even more incensed, fury mixed with pain.Markov made a contemptuous gesture and Viktor was violently dragged to his feet and marched out.

“After I kill him, I’ll kill you,” Markov said to Yuuri.“And you, too, can know that failure tastes like a lead bullet.”

And then Yuuri was hustled out as well, his last sight a vicious grin from the man who was going to kill him.This time, the man who accompanied Yuuri pulled a long chain from his pocket and, as Yuuri watched with a sinking heart, locked the chain to a link in the wall and then to Yuuri's handcuffs.

“Why?” Yuuri whispered. The man just sneered, and turned to go without answering.

As soon as the basement door closed behind them, Viktor kicked the wall furiously and screamed wordlessly.Yuuri sank down against the wall, the handcuffs biting into his scabbed over, bleeding wrists, the chain pressing uncomfortably against his spine.It was long enough to let him stand, to let him walk most of the way across the room, but he would not be able to get up the stairs.And Viktor wouldn’t leave without him.Probably.So they were both trapped, even more than before.

“I hate him, I hate him, I _fucking hate him,”_ Viktor fumed, kicking the wall again, and Yuuri hated the fact that he couldn’t be sure which _him_ Viktor was talking about.

Viktor kicked the wall a third time, and Yuuri said tiredly, “You’re going to break your toes if you keep doing that.”

“Fuck you,” Viktor shot back, but there was no real anger in his words. He beat both fists against the wall and then rested his head against the stone, his shoulders shaking soundlessly.

Yuuri struggled to his feet, but stayed back, the chain swinging gently behind him.“Viktor,” he said quietly.

Still shaking, Viktor didn’t turn.

Yuuri took a step closer, close enough that he could almost feel his love’s body heat.“Viktor,” he said again.

Viktor slowly turned to face him, his cheeks red, his eyes wet.“I hate you,” he said.“I hate you, I hate you.”He hit Yuuri lightly, more like a tap on the shoulder.“I hate you,” he sobbed, leaning against Yuuri and halfheartedly hitting his arms and chest.“I hate you so much… I- I-”

Yuuri wished fervently that he could wrap his arms around Viktor, that he could break his handcuffs in two with the sheer power of his love and tug the chain out of the wall, but was forced to do the best he could.Viktor leaned into him, his forehead resting on Yuuri’s shoulder as he cried, and Yuuri did his best to provide comfort, whispering useless, meaningless support in English, in Russian, in Japanese.

When Viktor’s crying finally slowed, Yuuri dared to press a soft kiss to his cheek.“I don’t hate you,” Viktor mumbled, his forehead still resting on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“I know,” Yuuri replied in the same voice.“I know, Viktor.”

Viktor laughed wetly.“At least-”He hiccuped, snuffled, and then continued, “At least I was able to fall in love before I died.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri said.He turned his head and buried his face in Viktor’s hair before whispering almost soundlessly, “The person I called was my coworker at Interpol.If my handler wasn’t present already, I’m sure he’ll have contacted her as soon as I hung up.He’ll have told her by now that we’re in danger but we’re together.”

Viktor froze, and then lifted his head just a bit before shifting, pressing his face against Yuuri’s neck.“You’re sure?” he whispered.

Yuuri hummed, low in his throat.“They’ll know what I meant,” he promised.

Viktor nodded slowly, and then pulled away.“Those handcuffs are uncomfortable, aren’t they,” he said.

Yuuri bit his lip.“I’m fine.”

Viktor frowned at him, and then lifted his still-cuffed hands to his face, brushing his fringe out of his eyes.“That’s not what I asked.”

Yuuri’s fingers curled up into his palms.“I know,” he said.

Viktor cocked his head slightly, and then stepped past Yuuri to lean against the wall before sliding down to sit.Yuuri hesitated, and then sat beside him as best he could.

“You can come closer,” Viktor said softly, and when Yuuri looked up he found that Viktor was staring resolutely at the dirty floor next to his legs.Yuuri shuffled a little closer, and when he stilled Viktor inched even closer until their sides were pressed together.

They sat like that for a little while, silent but not uncomfortable, until Viktor broke the silence again.“Yuuri,” he said quietly rolling the name around his mouth.“Yuuuuuuri. I hope you’ll forgive me if I forget to call you by the right name.”

Yuuri smiled thinly.“I won’t mind,” he promised.

Viktor paused, and then tentatively leaned his head against Yuuri’s shoulder again.“Tell me if this bothers you,” he said quietly. Yuuri nodded.His shoulder could fall off before he would ever tell Viktor to move, tell Viktor to seek comfort elsewhere.

Next to his ear, Yuuri heard Viktor swallow hard.“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered.“I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said.Before.When we were fighting.”

“I shouldn’t have lied,” Yuuri replied.

“You didn’t have a choice,” Viktor started miserably, but Yuuri shook his head.

He pulled back a little, looking Viktor in the eyes.“I shouldn’t have lied as long as I did,” he said.“I am so, so sorry.”

Viktor’s lip wobbled.“I… I said I fell in love with a lie,” he whispered.“That might be true.But I still love that lie.And I think I could come to love the man behind it, as well.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, choked up.

“I don’t want to die mad at you,” Viktor said, his voice wobbling dangerously.“I don’t think I’m really all that mad anymore.Just… tired.”He took a deep, shuddering breath, and then said in the tiniest voice, “Yuuri, I’m scared.”

“I wish I could hold you,” Yuuri whispered.“Vitya, I know.I wish I could do something… _anything…”_

“Just stay with me,” Viktor said.“Please stay with me until the end.”

“Always,” Yuuri promised.He closed his eyes tightly, barely suppressed sobs making his chest ache, raking his throat like razor blades.

“Always is suddenly a lot shorter than I thought it would be,” Viktor said bitterly.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be,” Yuuri said hopelessly, his voice thick and gummy, but he refused to let his tears fall.He had to stay strong now, for Viktor.

Viktor pressed close to him and Yuuri twisted as best to be closer.They took comfort in each other’s touch, leaning against each other as they cried.Even when Viktor’s tears slowed, they stayed pressed together as if it was possible to become one if they wished hard enough.

Despite the handcuffs both managed to fall asleep like that, as close to one another as they could be.Yuuri was the first to wake, enough hours later that the scant light coming in through the window was weak and golden, disoriented.

It took him a moment to realize what had roused him, and electrifying fear shot through him as deja vu hit like a wave- there was a shadowy figure in the basement, close enough to touch.

Yuuri must have made a sound, or maybe moved, because at his side Viktor stirred.“Fuck,” the shadow grumbled in Russian.“I thought you were asleep.

“Yakov?” Viktor slurred, and then added in a clearer voice, “Get the _fuck_ away from us.”

The shadow scuffled back a few feet, and the light from the window Yakov’s haggard face.“Viktor,” he said, and then paused, at a loss.

Yuuri shook his head to wake himself further, pushing away the last vestiges of sleep.“Yakov,” he said slowly, getting to his feet.“What do you want?”

“I was just assigned to bring food,” Yakov growled.“Not to chit-chat.”

He turned to go, shoulders stiff, and Yuuri lurched forward, as far as the chain holding him back would let him go.“Wait!” he cried desperately.“Wait.”

Yakov paused, but did not turn.“What,” he said flatly.

Yuuri bit his lip, tasting blood on his tongue, and took a gamble.“I know that you didn’t want to do this.”Yakov was silent.

Gaining confidence, Yuuri continued, “It’s clear in your body language, in the way you act and speak.You’re not here entirely of your free will, either.You didn’t want to help kidnap Viktor, and you certainly didn’t want for him to get hurt.”

“You’re wrong,” Yakov said, his face still in shadow, his voice oddly hollow.“This is exactly what I wanted to happen.”

Yuuri shook his head vehemently.“No, it’s not,” he said.“There’s no use arguing about something that we both know to be true, even if you don’t want to admit it.But Yakov, it’s not too late to go back.”

“I have killed a man,” Yakov said flatly.“That Interpol agent, Morooka.I shot him.There is no going back whether I want to or not, unless I wish to go to prison for the rest of my life.”His chin lowered.“There is no going back.”

“If you did something for the authorities, they may be willing to make a deal,” Yuuri said softly.“If you, say… brought Viktor back safely.”

“That’s impossible,” Yakov said immediately.He cast a guilty look at Viktor, who remained sitting, glaring up with unbridled hatred at his former coach.“The only way Viktor is going anywhere is in a body bag,” Yakov continued.“The same goes for any of us here.”

Yuuri shook his head.“You can get Viktor out,” he said in a low, urgent voice.“And if you can get him back to Interpol’s custody, if you can make sure he gets to safety in one piece, I can guarantee you total amnesty.”

Yakov whirled around.“What?”

Yuuri clenched his jaw.He had no idea if that was possible, not after everything Yakov had done.But if it would keep Viktor safe, he was completely willing to try.“If you get Viktor to safety,” Yuuri repeated.“I can promise you that Interpol will grant you amnesty.All you have to do is pass that message on to Minako.”

Yakov eyed him suspiciously.“That does nothing for you,” he pointed out.

Yuuri nodded slowly.“I know,” he said.“You can’t get us both out, not reliably.But I believe you can help Viktor.Do it, and you’ll be free of _all_ of this.”He made eye contact.“I know better than most that the guilt of killing, the guilt of murder… it’s hard to escape.Sometimes even impossible.But you won’t have to escape the law if you fix things.If you make sure Viktor is safe.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor protested, finally getting to his feet.“Stop talking.There is absolutely no way I’m going to let you do that, don’t be ridiculous.”

Yuuri ignored him.“Do we have a deal?” he said to Yakov.“Viktor’s safety for your freedom?”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Yakov said suspiciously, but there was something almost hopeful in his eyes.And Yuuri knew he was right.Yakov, for whatever reason, had gone along with Markov’s plans against his will.Which meant that he could be turned.

“Viktor is obviously here as a witness to my plan,” Yuuri replied.“But if they don’t believe that you’re telling the truth, tell Minako that a katsudon fatale sent you.She’ll know.”

Yakov hesitated, so long that Yuuri thought he was going to refuse.But finally, _finally,_ the old man nodded.“Viktor’s freedom for my amnesty,” he repeated.“Fine.I will find a way to get Viktor out of here.”

Yuuri nodded firmly.“I’d offer to shake on it, but…” he jingled his handcuffs behind his back.

“Yuuri!” Viktor exclaimed, horrified.“You cannot be serious if you expect me to just leave without you.”

Yuuri faced him fully, his eyes hard.“Viktor,” he said.“Listen to me.One of us has the chance to get out of this alive.I can’t run or fight, as I am.Please, get out while you can.”

“Not without you,” Viktor said, shaking his head stubbornly.“I’m still a little furious, but I’m not going to leave you here alone.”

“Don’t you understand?” Yuuri hissed, his eyes wide.“It’s either one of us or neither, and I refuse to let it be neither if we have the chance.”He blinked hard.“Let it be my last request.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor sobbed, and then kissed him.His lips were salty, chapped.Yuuri kissed breathlessly back, barely keeping his own emotions in check.If Viktor could only escape… This was his chance, and if there was a chance then Viktor _needed_ to take it.Yuuri refused to let himself fail again.

“Goodbye, my Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, giving Viktor one last kiss on the lips.“Please don’t forget me.”

“I’ll never forget you,” Viktor promised fervently, and gave him another desperate kiss.“My Yuuri.I’m sorry, _I’m sorry-”_

“Viktor,” Yakov snapped.“Now.If you want to go, we have to go now.”

Yuuri stepped away and gave Viktor a firm, confident smile, scraping the barrel of his strength. “Go ahead,” he said.“I’ll see you in a little while.Take care, and be careful, alright?”

Viktor gazed longingly at him.“I think I love you,” he whispered.“Yuuri, I love you, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…”Yakov tapped his shoulder, and Viktor turned to go.Yuuri took a step back, the chain holding him to the wall sagging.

“Travel safe,” he said softly.

Viktor nodded.He didn’t look back, and Yuuri was grateful for that.If Viktor had looked back, he wouldn’t have been able to leave.Maybe Yuuri wouldn’t have let him.

Yakov opened the basement door, and paused.“Good night, Katsuki,” he said.

Yuuri nodded sharply, and watched in silence as Viktor disappeared.The last view Yuuri had of his love was of hunched shoulders and a bowed head, heavy with loss.The door the basement closed and locked.

Yuuri let himself break down, curling up and sobbing into his knees, his breathing fast, his body trembling.He let himself cry until he had no tears left to give, and lay for a while longer on the floor, exhausted and wrung out.

And then he began to think.Viktor was gone.If everything was according to plan, Viktor was safe and out of Markov’s reach.That meant that Yuuri had no vulnerabilities left to exploit.Nothing left to lose, and everything to gain.

He wasn't quite done- almost everything had been taken from him, but he still had some left to give.  The time to surrender had not yet come. 

 All he had to do was escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence: Two characters are repeatedly threatened with bodily harm and death.
> 
> I'm going to do my utmost to have a new chapter on or around September ~~15th~~ 18th, so we'll... we'll see how that goes, I guess. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have an amazing day, dear reader!


	24. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Viktor escapes, leaving Yuuri to his fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was......... fun to write ahaha
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: This is a heavy chapter. I had some difficulty writing it. Please read the warnings in the end notes about graphic violence if you think it might be an issue. Also, Viktor isn't in the best state of mind during this chapter, and isn't necessarily making the best choices for his personal health or wellbeing.
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter regardless!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing

Viktor’s heart had shattered long before the door to the basement closed behind him, shutting in the man who was probably the love of his life and dooming him to death, but it was then that the shards began to stab him, to make him bleed.

“Come on, don’t dawdle,” Yakov said sharply, his voice gruff and unfeeling, and Viktor clenched his fists.Handcuffs be damned, he longed to whack his ex-coach upside the head.

Only his promise to Yuuri held him back; a promise soured by the knowledge that Yuuri would die, that Viktor had almost died without knowing the truth about Yuuri and he might never completely forgive Yuuri for lying to him… but it was a promise nonetheless. So Viktor forced himself to walk away, after Yakov.

“Where are we going?” he whispered.

Yakov shot him a vaguely threatening look over his shoulder.“Keep your mouth shut, or we’re going to get caught,” he said at a significantly louder volume than Viktor.

“Who’s there?” a voice called in Russian from the next room, and both Viktor and Yakov froze.“Who’s there?” the voice said again, this time much more suspiciously, and there was a creak of floorboards as someone walked across the room towards them.

Viktor stood frozen, breathless.So this was how he was going to die.He was absolutely sure that Markov would kill him, and parade his dead body in front of Yuuri just to mock him.Helpless tears prickled at his eyes even as he took a useless step back.

One of Markov’s men rounded the corner of the doorway, a frown on his face.His eyes focused on Yakov.“What are you doing?” he growled.

Yakov straightened his spine.“Markov asked me to bring the prisoner outside,” he said calmly.“He doesn’t want to get blood on the carpet.”

The man’s eyes narrowed.“He wants them alive until tomorrow,” he said slowly.“Those were out orders.All of our orders.”

Yakov swallowed nervously, licked his lips.“I’m aware, but-”

“What are you up to?” the man asked, his hand dipping into his coat pocket.Viktor heard the catch of metal, and the man pulled out a gun.“You’re not trying to take him away, are you?” the man said, but there was no real question in his voice.

Yakov took a deep breath.“No, why would I do something stupid like that?” he said scornfully.

The man’s lips twitched in disbelief.“Hands in the air,” he said, pointing his gun directly at Yakov.

Before he knew what he was doing Viktor stepped forward, running, and in three steps was barreling into the man with the gun and the weapon clattered to the floor and Viktor was diving for it without a thought of his life and then he was struggling with the man, the scent of fear and desperation clogging his throat and the gun was in his hands, still hindered by the handcuffs, and somehow his finger was curled around the trigger and it went off once, twice, and the man fell back and suddenly there was blood all over Viktor’s shirt and-

The gun clattered to the floor.

“Viktor,” Yakov said softly.

Viktor panted, his eyes wide, paralyzed.

“Viktor,” Yakov said again, and put a hand on Viktor’s shoulder.

With trembling legs Viktor pushed himself to his feet before staring down at Markov’s man on the ground.Blood pooled around his torso, his breathing was ragged, labored.

Viktor took a step back, and then another, and another, and another, until his back was pressed at against the wall.“Oh my god,” he whispered.“Oh my god.”

“Viktor,” Yakov said with no bite in his voice.“Come on.We have to go.”

“I- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-” Viktor said.

“I know,” Yakov murmured.“Come on.”

Viktor cast one more look towards the man on the floor.The pool of blood had grown, but Viktor didn’t know enough to be sure that he would die.Somehow he had managed to shoot the other man in the chest, which sounded lethal, but maybe… maybe Viktor wouldn’t be a murder.There would be no way to know.There would never be a way to know, not if Viktor escaped from this place like Yuuri wanted him to.

Numbly, his ears ringing and his fingers tingling, the blood soaked into his shirt clammy against his skin, Viktor followed Yakov out of the place he had thought would be his grave.He kept his head bowed, silent, eyes on his feet as Yakov led him to the van they had been brought in.

“Get in the back,” Yakov said in a low voice.“And keep yourself out of view through the windows.We have no way of knowing if Interpol has caught on to the fact that you’re missing, and I don’t want to get pulled over by the police until we get the chance to talk to Katsuki’s boss at Interpol.”

“Until you get the chance to talk to Yuuri’s boss,” Viktor mumbled bitterly, but climbed in the back of the van without further complaint and slumped down on the floor with his back to the driver’s seat.The back door slammed shut and after a moment Yakov got in the front, sticking the keys in the ignition and starting the car.Viktor steadied himself with one palm against the floor as the car lurched backwards before turning to get on the road.

“This seems too easy,” Yakov murmured, and Viktor felt the car accelerate under him, gravel crunching beneath the tires.

“Maybe it is,” Viktor whispered.He buried his face in his hands, trying to take deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth.Suddenly his shirt, splattered and damp with another man’s blood, was too much to bear, and he angrily tore it off before throwing it across the van.Shirtless, Viktor shivered and pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face again.

He stayed silent even as the road changed from gravel to asphalt beneath the wheels of the van, stayed silent as they got faster, as he could hear other cars on the road around them.They were probably on the highway, headed back to Boston.Without Yuuri.

After what seemed like an eternity in a moment, Yakov said in a voice barely audible over the engine, “You probably saved my life.Doing what you did, back there.”

Viktor took a shallow, trembling breath.“I didn’t save your life,” he replied softly.“I saved myself.You were my ride out of there.”

Yakov made a sound deep in his throat.“Vitya,” he said.

Viktor angrily hit the back of the driver’s seat, probably too low for Yakov to actually feel.“Just shut the fuck up and drive,” he snapped.

Yakov went silent again and Viktor ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at his greasy bangs.Not showering for two days didn’t really suit him.It felt vain, fixating on his appearance after all he had gone through, after all Yuuri would go through before he died, but Viktor was rather sure it was one of the few things helping him hold on to his sanity.

He fell asleep, at some point, restless and disturbed.He dreamed that he was back in the basement with Yuuri, and Yuuri was holding him, rocking him back and forth as he shook.He dreamed that he watched as Markov came in and killed Yuuri while he was still in Yuuri’s arms, and then Yuuri’s blood was on his hands, dripping from his fingertips as he cried, and then Markov killed him too.

Viktor woke up with a start after that, curled up in a ball on the rough, cold floor of the van, and resolved not to sleep again, even if he had to hit himself to stay awake.If Viktor just barely craned his neck he could see a bit of the sky out the back windows, and it looked significantly darker than it had been when they had left.

“What time is it?” he called out hoarsely, and after a moment Yakov answered him.

Viktor frowned.“Are the free programs still tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes,” Yakov replied gruffly.He seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then added, “You don’t expect to skate, do you?”

Viktor smiled wanly at that thought.“I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to,” he said.“Instead of practicing I’ve been beaten, restrained in a basement for hours on end, and I haven’t eaten anything in more than a day.”He closed his eyes, the beginning of a headache pounding inside his skull.“And I wouldn’t want to, anyway.Maybe if he gets what he wants, Markov won’t kill Yuuri.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Yakov snapped.“The more you get your hopes up that your… boyfriend will survive, the harder it’s going to be for you when you find out for sure that he’s dead.”

Viktor choked on a sob.“Why would you say something like that?” he managed to say, voice cracking.

“You must be realistic,” Yakov replied, but Viktor detected a slight softening in his voice.

“Realistic,” Viktor repeated.

“You haven’t dealt with Markov like I have,” Yakov said quietly.“He will kill Yuuri simply to hurt you, whether or not he gets what he wants.I just hope, for your sake, that Yuuri’s death is quick.That he won’t be tortured before he dies.”

“Shut up, shut up,” Viktor begged.He pressed his hands over his ears like a child, tears dripping off his nose to dot the floor.Yakov said something else, muffled, but Viktor ignored him.

He knew, in his heart of hearts, that he would never see Yuuri again.That his goodbye had been a final goodbye.But if he didn't think about it, if he wouldn’t admit it, maybe he wouldn’t have to accept it when the time came.

They fell silent again, Yakov driving calmly and Viktor stewing in misery.The sky got darker, and after a little while rain began to patter against the car windows.The windshield wipers squeaked to life, and the gentle shush of water on the road and rain tapping on the roof almost lulled Viktor to sleep again until he jerked himself awake, pinching his arm hard enough to leave a mark.

“Yakov,” Viktor said.He was loath to talk to his former coach, to the man who had betrayed him beyond belief, but he knew that if he fell asleep again he would be back in that basement with Yuuri’s limp, bleeding body cradled in his arms.

“What is it?” Yakov said, sounding unduly irritated.

Viktor inhaled slowly, exhaled.“I want to know why you did this,” he replied.“I want to know why you threatened me, why you helped kidnap me, why you wanted me and Yuuri to die.I want to understand.”

“Does it matter?” Yakov said bitterly.“What’s done is done.I will be forever cemented in your memory as a traitor and a killer, nothing more.What does it matter?”

“Because I want to know,” Viktor said softly.“I want to know.I want to know… if I ever knew you at all.Or if you’ve been lying to me the entire time too.”

Yakov huffed out a frustrated breath.“What does it matter,” he murmured.“Nothing.”

Viktor waited, eyes closed, leaning his head against the seat behind him.His butt had long fallen asleep against the hard floor, and when he moved his legs to cross them differently his feet tingled painfully.

“I was approached by Markov last February,” Yakov said finally.“He… he said he wanted to make a deal with me.You… you know I used to gamble.”

Viktor nodded.He knew vaguely of his old coach’s vice, a problem that had seemingly got worse as Yakov’s relationship had fallen apart.He had lent Yakov money once, a couple thousand rubles.Georgi had apparently done the same in the past.But Yakov had always paid them back, so how far into debt could he really be?

“I was deep in debt,” Yakov said as though he had read Viktor’s mind.“Markov offered me a way out.He would pay back everyone I owed, and all I would have to do was make sure… make sure you lost.”

“So you ruined my career and livelihood to pay off gambling debt,” Viktor said flatly.

“No!” Yakov snapped, and then said in a quieter voice, “No.No.Markov, he… he told me what would happen if I didn’t cooperate with him.That he would… hurt you.To stop you from winning.That if I didn’t help, he would hurt everyone at the St. Petersburg rink… You, Mila, Yuri, Georgi, the hockey team, even… Lilia.He said that if I didn’t make sure you lost, he would make sure by murdering you.My only choice was to cooperate.”

“And the kidnapping?” Viktor asked hollowly.

“I didn’t know how to make you lose,” Yakov whispered.“I thought the threats to your fucking dog would work, but…” he paused, helpless.“Markov kept making demands.And I kept failing.I managed to talk him back to Worlds, but when I couldn’t get you to quit… The kidnapping was my suggestion, you know.I convinced him to kidnap you to prevent you from competing, instead of shooting you while you slept like he wanted… I honestly didn’t know that he planned to kill you after the free skate ended regardless.I should have realized.I guess…. I guess I was being too idealistic.But… one Interpol agent’s death is better than the death of a dozen, the death of young athletes and teenagers and…. and people I love.”

“What about people I love,” Viktor whispered.

“One death is better than many,” Yakov repeated, his voice shaking.

“Why even get Yuuri involved?” Viktor spat.“I don’t understand!Why even get Interpol involved if you care so little about their agents, if they could pose more of a threat to you than an advantage?”

“It was a mistake to have you find the first threat when you were with other people,” Yakov said.“I didn’t mean for that to happen.But Ivan, Georgi and I saw the threat.It would be more suspicious if I didn’t reach out to the police.I’m sure Georgi and Ivan would have themselves, if I didn’t give them proof that the authorities were on the case.So I went to Interpol.I didn’t think that they would be able to do anything useful.And because I had brought the issue to their attention they wouldn’t suspect me of being the cause of the problem in the first place.The only thing I didn’t account for was that you would get so attached to Katsuki.”

He laughed humorlessly.“I’ve known you for years, though.I should have expected that it would happen.You’ve always reached for things just out of your grasp.”

Viktor’s fingers dug into his legs, leaving long scratches.“How far away are we?” he said.

“Half an hour, perhaps,” Yakov replied.

“I hope what Yuuri said won’t work,” Viktor whispered, too quietly for Yakov to hear.“I hope you go to prison for the rest of your life.”He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears again.

It hurt, to know that Yuuri was little more than a pawn in Yakov’s desperate gamble.It hurt to know that if no one else had known about the threats Yuuri would never have gotten involved.It hurt to know that chance, bad luck had brought them together, and that same chance would end Yuuri’s life.And it hurt more than anything that Yakov had thought he was doing right.That even though people would die to save his ass, he thought he was doing right.

Viktor’s throat was sore, his eyes scratchy, by the time the van pulled off the highway and took several sharp turns before parking.The engine went off a moment later.Viktor raised his head, shifting, but he could see nothing of Yakov but the crown of his balding head over the top of the seat.

“Stay quiet,” Yakov said after a moment.“I’m calling Minako.”

Viktor inched backwards as Yakov’s head bent, shuffling for his phone.When his back hit the van doors he tried the latch.Locked.Fuck.

“Minako?” Yakov said into the phone, and when Viktor looked up Yakov’s eyes were on him, angry in the rearview mirror.There was a pause, and then Yakov murmured an address before hanging up.

“They’ll come,” he said.“I’m missing too.They’ll have noticed by now, I’m sure.They’ll come.”

He looked over his shoulder, and for the first time Viktor saw Yakov’s face since they had gotten in the car.The old man looked more haggard than ever before, his brow creased and his lips drawn into a frown.“The doors are locked, Viktor.” 

“Just let me go,” Viktor whispered.He wobbled to his knees, and then threatened, “I could scream, wave my hands in the windows until someone sees.”

Yakov’s frown deepened.“No one is around,” he said.“It’s late.But…”Viktor heard a faint click, and then the muzzle of a gun appeared over the edge of the seat.“I will not hesitate,” he said.“I will kill you, and then I will kill myself.I do not want to go to prison.So don’t be a dramatic fool and get yourself killed.”

“When have I _not_ been a dramatic fool,” Viktor murmured bitterly, but slid down against the wall of the van again. “Fine.Get your fucking amnesty.What does it matter.”

Yakov relaxed slightly, sitting back in his seat but keeping his eyes on Viktor in the mirror.“Now we wait,” he murmured.

Viktor sat with his teeth clenched, his wrists smarting against the tight, cold metal of the handcuffs, panic clawing at his chest.Maybe it would be better to die.Maybe it would be better to die, after all the trouble he had caused.It wasn’t directly his fault, no, but maybe it would be better to die so he wouldn’t risk falling in love with another man doomed to die from the very beginning.Or maybe he was a dramatic fool.

Shaking, shivering, Viktor curled into himself and tried not to cry for everything he had lost and everything else he would lose.

Some time later there was the sound of a car pulling into the lot beside the van, the sound of people getting out, walking, yelling.Very calmly, Yakov unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, his hands raised.Before the driver’s door closed, Viktor heard him say clearly, “A katsudon fatale sent me.”

And then the door was closed and Viktor was locked in an almost eerie silence, the sounds from outside echoing faintly against his ears.It didn’t take more than a minute or two before the back doors to the van were wrenched open and light flooded in.Viktor flinched, squinting.

“Call an ambulance,” someone said, and then there was a face in front of Viktor’s, just too close for comfort.“Viktor, can you hear me?”

Viktor nodded, even as his heart wrenched.That accent was painfully close to the one that Yuuri had adopted back when Viktor had first met him, back when Viktor had begun to fall for him.He cracked his eyes open a bit more to see a young man with blond and dyed-red hair kneeling on the floor of the van in front of him.

“It’s alright,” the man said.“You’re safe now, I promise.We’re going to bring you to the hospital, and you’ll stay under police protection until we catch the rest of the people responsible for this.”

“The rest?” Viktor echoed.

The young man’s expression hardened.“Yakov Feltsman is in police custody,” he said.

Viktor swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.“He's not getting amnesty?Yuuri-Yuuri promised-”

The young man’s expression flickered.“Please don’t worry yourself about that,” he said softly.“The authorities will handle everything.I promise.”He leaned back on his heels.“Where is your shirt?You must be freezing cold.”He shrugged off his jacket and offered it to Viktor.

Viktor took the jacket with trembling fingers, and draped it over his shoulders.If he tried to put it on, he would probably pop the seams.

“My shirt is there,” he whispered, nodding to the corner of the van.

The young man turned, and yelped when he saw the blood stains on the fabric.“Are you hurt?” he asked frantically, turning back to Viktor.

“It’s not my blood,” Viktor said dully.“I don’t know what his name was.”

The young man exhaled slowly.“If he’s on record anywhere, forensics will figure it out,” he muttered.

The scream of a siren in the distance got louder, and then an ambulance pulled into the parking lot, lights flashing.

“Can you walk?” the young man asked seriously, clambering out of the van.Viktor nodded unsurely, and pushed himself to the edge, dangling his legs over the lip of the van.Two paramedics rushed over and with their help Viktor struggled to the ambulance, lying down as they told him without complaint.

The next few hours were a blur- people talked around Viktor as he was driven to a hospital and rolled on a gurney into a room.At some point the handcuffs were sawn off, and his bloody wrists bandaged.

Someone shone bright lights into his eyes and had him answer questions and then he distantly heard talks of _just a slight concussion, ma’am, probably from the same incident that caused the bruise on the back of his head_ and _no ma’am there shouldn’t be any permanent damage, it’s a lump and not an indent in his skull, and he hasn’t lost too much blood…_

He was left alone after a long time, redressed in a hospital gown and tucked into bed, an IV stuck in his arm, his wrists and head bandaged, the lights to his room turned off, a police officer stationed outside his door to protect him.

Viktor stared blankly up at the greyish ceiling above him for a long time before he slipped into a thankfully dreamless sleep, the pillow wet with tears beneath his cheek.

***

It took Yuuri about an hour to determine that, if he tried hard enough, he might be able to pull the link out of the wall and thus unchain himself, even if he was still within the confines of the basement for the time being.

Once he gave himself some time to break down, some time to cry, he picked up the pieces of his composure and tried his best to put himself back together.Once he was as calm as he was going to get, he began to evaluate his situation- he was still handcuffed, chained to the wall, and alone.He had nothing handy to defend himself with, and there was no reason for his captors to leave him alive.It was about then, in between slightly frantic laps of pacing, that Yuuri tried to pull at the chain attaching him to the wall and felt the link move almost imperceptibly.As Yuuri kept tugging at the link, he found that it became a little looser each time.When he leaned in close he saw that, although the metal was embedded into the wall, the mortar or cement around it was getting crumbly.

Yuuri pressed his lips together, and turned his back on the wall before looping the chain up into his hands, giving his wrists a little slack before letting his body weight fall forward, pulling the chain taut.The chain pressed hard against his palms, digging into his chin, and pulled the handcuffs painfully tight.Yuuri gritted his teeth, straightened, backed up a bit, and did it again.

He fell into a daze, after a while- the pain in his wrists, while ever present, faded into the dull background. The only reminder of his condition was the faint dripping of the occasional drop of blood to the floor.Unconsciously Yuuri began to count each time he fell forward before the chain caught him by the wrists, and he was near to five hundred before the chain gave and he tumbled to the floor, the link popping out of the wall and clanging to the floor.

Gasping, Yuuri struggled to his feet before glancing over his shoulder.Now, instead of being locked to the wall, Yuuri had a long metal chain attached to his wrists with a loose end he could swing.A long, _heavy_ metal chain.In other words, he had a weapon.

Yuuri smiled grimly, and crouched before awkwardly gathering the chain up as best he could.Everything would be much easier if his hands were cuffed in front of him rather than behind, but… Markov had seemed to think that that would be too much of a risk.Even with Yuuri chained to the wall.

Yuuri frowned and straightened again, the chain clenched in one sweaty palm.Markov had chained Yuuri to the wall to prevent him from leaving, but he had done nothing to Viktor.He clearly knew that Yuuri was a greater threat… perhaps he thought that if they _did_ ever manage to escape, Viktor would be more likely to run while Yuuri was more likely to try to stay behind and inflict some damage or make them pay for their crimes.And so Yuuri would have to be restrained more fully, to prevent him from doing any harm.

Yuuri exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment, and wondered how surprised Markov would be to find that Viktor had escaped with Yakov.Perhaps not much.But he would be angry, for sure.And Yuuri would suffer that anger alone.

Yuuri opened his eyes again, glancing around.Above him, very little light filtered in through the barred window.It was probably fairly late.Yuuri shifted the chain in his hands, considering, and then shook his head.He turned his back to the window and squinted into the dimness of the basement.From what he had observed when it was still daylight, there was nothing under the stairs down from the floor above- the stairs were little more than a wooden frame, and wouldn’t do much at all to hide someone during the day, but at night…

Yuuri shuffled across the basement, feeling out with his toes for the edge of the stairs, and then carefully navigated so that he was underneath the staircase as best he could manage. Then he settled down to wait.

And while he waited, Yuuri listened.

He hadn’t been paying much attention right after Viktor had left, distraught as he was, and that had probably been a mistake.But since Markov hadn’t come down yet to gloat, that probably meant Viktor’s escape had been successful.But since Markov hadn’t come down to hurt him, that probably _also_ meant that Viktor’s escape hadn’t yet been discovered.

Yuuri closed his eyes again, leaning his forehead against the rough, splintery edge of one of the steps, and strained his ears for any sounds from above.For a while he didn’t hear much more than faint scuffling, sounds that could just have easily been mice in the walls as they could have been footsteps above, but after a little while he suddenly heard shouting, and the pounding of boots on the floor above his head.

Yuuri’s lips curled into a small, odd smile.They must have discovered that the van was missing.Soon enough someone would be sent down to check and make sure the prisoners were secure.And _that_ would be Yuuri’s chance.

Sure enough, before long he heard the jangle of keys through the door above, and opened his eyes before looking up.After a moment the lock clicked, the deadbolt was pulled back, and a sliver of light quickly grew against the opposite wall.

Yuuri blinked hard, trying to force his eyes to adjust after so long in the gloom.

“Hey, still alive down there?” one of Markov’s men called in Russian, and then repeated in English, “Hey, answer me.Awake?Alive?”Yuuri stayed silent.

The sliver of light on the wall grew larger as the door was opened wider, and then a pair of boots began to clump down the stairs.Yuuri gripped the chain tighter,stepping out from the stairs a little.He waited until the boots had passed through his line of vision, and then a pair of legs, and then a back, and then Markov’s man cursed quietly under his breath.

“How are they _both_ gone,” he muttered in furious Russian.

That was when Yuuri struck.

While the man was still standing just beyond the bottom of the stairs, his back more or less to Yuuri, Yuuri pulled his handcuffed wrists as much in front of him as he could get them and then hit the man in the back with the chain in his hands.The man grunted with pain, stumbling forward even as he fumbled for his gun.His face twisted, Yuuri struck again, this time hitting the man hard enough to knock him to his hands and knees.

“What-” the man managed to say, and then Yuuri struck him on the back of the head with the chain once, twice, three, four, five times, until he was limp against the basement floor.

Yuuri exhaled slowly, pushing away a small flicker of guilt.The man’s gun had fallen to the floor beside his hand, and Yuuri kicked it away before nudging the man in the ribs with his foot.The man didn’t stir, but the ring of keys on his belt jingled.

Yuuri lit up.Maybe, just maybe… 

Sure enough, when he leaned closer there was a key small enough to belong to the handcuffs locked around his wrists.With a bit of awkward twisting he was able to get the fingers of one hand on the ring of keys, and after tugging with one foot braced against the unconscious man’s leg his belt loop fell apart enough to allow Yuuri to pull the ring off entirely.

Trying to stay as quiet as possible, Yuuri fumbled with the keys, keeping an eye on the top of the stairs and turning his back to the unconscious man.The keys slipped out of his sweaty, cramped, bloody fingers, and Yuuri cursed under his breath before bending down to pick them up again, all the while straining his ears for any sound from above.

After several dragging, panicky seconds Yuuri managed to find the right key and strained his wrist, trying to stuff the key into the tiny handcuff keyhole.His breath was loud to his own ears, heart beating in his throat as he craned his neck, trying to see.

Once he was out of these goddamn handcuffs, he could grab the gun on the floor and get himself out of here.He wasn’t afraid to threaten Markov if it would get him to safety.What did he have left to lose?

The key clicked into the keyhole and Yuuri gasped, fumbling to turn it with his stiff, trembling fingers.The handcuffs loosened, and Yuuri let the keys drop to the floor before desperately pulling at the cuffs.After a second of wriggling he pulled one wrist out and then the other, letting the cuffs clatter to the dirty floor.

Yuuri groaned, the muscles in his shoulders burning as he lifted his arms in front of himself for the first time in hours.He rubbed, wincing, at one bloody wrist, staring down blankly at the marks on his skin.

Too late, Yuuri heard the scuffle behind him.

He turned, head jerking up. 

And he caught sight only of the furious snarl on the face of the thug he thought he had knocked out just before something hard collided painfully with his skull and the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Main characters are repeatedly threatened with violence and death, sometimes in graphic ways.  
> In the first section of the chapter a (minor) character is shot and is implied to have been killed. There is blood. Throughout the second half of the section there is discussion of violent threats and deaths that did not happen. Later on, another character says that he would rather kill his prisoner and himself before going to prison, although this does not come close to happening. In the second section of the chapter a (minor) character is beaten unconscious. A (major) character is hit over the head.
> 
> So. Yep. Um. The next chapter should be out on or around October ~~5th~~ 13th. Until then, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a great day, dear reader!


	25. The Last Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri fights for his life and Viktor fights for his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so much for your patience and support, I know this chapter is way later than I promised it... you're all the best <3
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Details about violence in the end notes. **Please** read if violence might be an issue.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Viktor woke up disoriented, his head pounding, his limbs heavy and achy.It took him a few moments to remember where he was, why he couldn’t feel the cold floor of a basement against his cheek or the painfully tight pinch of handcuffs around his wrists.

He couldn’t help but groan as he opened his eyes, the light that snuck through his eyelids doing nothing to improve his headache.Viktor had to blink a couple of times before he was able to focus on the white ceiling of the hospital above him, and then slowly turned his head.In a chair at his bedside, the young man who had helped him escape from Markov’s van was sitting in a chair by his bedside, tapping away at the keyboard of a computer.

Viktor must have made a sound, or his breathing must have changed rhythm, because the man’s eyes darted up from his laptop screen.

“Oh!” he said in surprise.“You’re awake!Um…”He quickly closed his laptop, setting it on the floor before jumping to his feet.“I’ll get a nurse!”

“Wait,” Viktor said hoarsely, and the young man paused, turning his head just slightly.Viktor licked his dry, cracked lips, and then said, “Do you… do you know if Yuuri is OK?”

The young man’s shoulders slumped slightly before he straightened himself up again.“I’m going to get a nurse,” he said in a quieter voice, and Viktor’s heart sank as he left, gently closing the door behind him.

Viktor leaned back against his pillow, closing his eyes and counting his breaths.He had no doubt that if Yuuri was OK, was safe, had somehow been rescued, then Viktor would have been told.He let himself imagine for a moment waking up to find, instead of a near stranger, Yuuri seated by his bedside- his dark hair a little ruffled, his brown eyes warm and kind behind his glasses, his fingers entwined with Viktor’s.

And then Viktor had to push that image away- it was too painful.

A couple of minutes later the young man returned with a nurse, who quietly checked Viktor’s vitals before leaving again.“The doctor is coming in a moment,” the young man said nervously, fiddling with his red bangs.

Viktor bit his lip so hard it bled.“Please, just tell me what happened to Yuuri,” he begged, his voice cracking.“I need to know- I-”

“I’m sorry,” the young man said, and he sounded genuinely upset.“I’m not allowed to yet, not until you’ve spoken to a doctor and probably a lawyer.”

There was a soft knock on the door, and then a woman in a white coat opened it.“Good morning, Mr. Nikiforov,” she said quietly, a kind smile on her face.She turned her attention to the young man.“Would you mind giving me a moment alone with him?”

“Sure,” the young man replied, and left the room.

The doctor sat down next to Viktor and then said directly, “Mr. Nikiforov, if I may be blunt, you are in good shape for everything you’ve been through.”

Viktor took a long breath, let it out through his nose.“I… don’t remember much of what happened last night after getting in the ambulance,” he admitted.“Is there a diagnosis, or am I OK to leave?”

“You do have a concussion,” the doctor said sympathetically.“It seems to have been caused by a blow to the back of the head.”

Viktor cast his memory back, and winced.“I was in a chair that fell over, and I hit my head,” he replied.

The doctor nodded.“You lost some blood from the wounds on your wrists that I was told are due to handcuffs,” she said.“But not enough to be permanently damaging.Please just make sure to keep your wrists bandaged, and change those out.And you weren’t held hostage for much more than a day, so you are a bit dehydrated and malnourished but I am confident that you will make a full recovery.”

The doctor sighed, resting her elbows on her knees before leaning forward.“In regards to the injuries you sustained in the past few days, you will recover fine,” she said seriously.“We’re going to keep you here for observation tonight and you may leave tomorrow with the instruction to return if any other problems crop up.Your concussion was mild, and shouldn’t do any lasting harm.But…”She sighed.

“It says in your file that you are a competitive figure skater,” the doctor said.“I understand that there is a championship today that you were supposed to compete in.I hope you understand that you will not be skating today.”

Viktor nodded slowly.

“And I would advise that you keep from skating too seriously until you’re sure that you are completely healed from all your injuries, the concussion included,” the doctor added.

“That’s OK,” Viktor said numbly.“I’m going to retire anyway, so I won’t be skating seriously anymore.”

The doctor pursed her lips, but nodded before getting to her feet.“Thank you for your time, Mr. Nikiforov,” she said.“Please don’t hesitate to let a nurse know if you need anything.”

Viktor nodded, and watched blankly as she left before closing his eyes again.He heard the door open and close again, and then a quiet shuffle to the side of his bed.

“Mr. Nikiforov,” the young man said softly.

Viktor puffed out a sigh.“You can call me Viktor, I don’t care,” he said.

“Viktor,” the man repeated, and it _hurt_ Viktor how much his accent sounded like Yuuri’s.“I’m Minami,” the man said, and Viktor opened his eyes before turning his head to gaze tiredly at Minami.

“I guess you work for Interpol as well?” he asked.

Minami nodded.“I work in Yuuri’s division,” he said quietly.“He and I have been friends for a long time.”

“Then please, please tell me,” Viktor whispered.“If he’s alive or not.Please just tell me if he’s dead, then maybe my hope… maybe it won’t hurt as much.”

Minami sighed heavily.“I really can’t-” he started, and then squeezed his eyes shut.When he opened them again his face was filled with resolve, and he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.“I’m not supposed to tell you much,” he whispered.“To avoid distressing you while you’re injured.But the truth is…” he hesitated.“We… we don’t know if Yuuri is alive or not.”His lip wobbled slightly.“Your coach, Yakov-”

“Ex-coach,” Viktor interrupted, and Minami nodded.

”Ex-coach,” he corrected.“Your ex-coach Yakov is in police custody right now.He was able to tell us a general area for where Yuuri and Markov might be, but by the time police got there last night they were already gone.”

Viktor swallowed dryly.“Is Yakov going to go to jail?” he asked.

The muscles in Minami’s jaw tightened.“That’s still up in the air,” he admitted.“With what we now know we can obviously charge him with kidnapping, and we have good reason to believe he was responsible for the murder of an Interpol agent as well.But the problem is that Yuuri apparently promised him amnesty of his crimes.”

Viktor nodded.“Yuuri- he said that if Yakov got me out alive, Interpol wouldn’t send him to jail.”

Minami nodded slowly, his expression guarded.“It’s a complicated situation,” he said quietly.“In all likeliness he won’t go to jail for the two counts of kidnapping and one count of second degree murder we could conceivably charge him with, but I doubt he’ll get off scot free.”

Viktor nodded slowly.“And Georgi?” he asked.“Georgi Popovich?Was he actually involved, or did Yakov frame him.”

Minami frowned.“Interpol will have to reopen that investigation,” he said.“But if he is innocent he will obviously be released from prison immediately, and will not have to go on trial.Interpol will drop all charges.”

“That does nothing for his career,” Viktor snapped.“No sponsor is ever going to want to take him on again, even if he _is_ innocent!”

Minami rubbed both hands over his face and sighed quietly.“I know,” he whispered.“Everything that’s happened… it’s probably ruined him. _Definitely_ ruined him.But I’m not sure there’s much that can be done, at this point.”He sighed again, slightly louder.“Interpol seriously fucked up this one, I’ll be honest.”He made eye contact with Viktor.

Viktor looked away, down at his hands in his lap.“What time is it?” he asked.

“It’s getting close to noon,” Minami replied.

Viktor glanced around his hotel room numbly, and took note of the TV mounted in one corner.“Would you mind turning on the World Championships?” he asked.

Minami paused.“I don’t know if that wouldn’t help you feel better,” he started a little nervously.

Viktor shot him a sharp look.“Please turn on the World Championships.”

Minami sighed.“The mens’ singles haven’t even started yet,” he grumbled, but turned on the TV and changed the channel until he found the Figure Skating World Championships.Viktor fixed his eyes on the TV, almost immediately tuning it out.As Minami had pointed out, none of the events had started yet, but on the screen a duo of pair dancers spun, a rerun of the short programs.

Minami sighed again, and then said, “At some point someone from Interpol will need to debrief you, alright?And there’s a police officer outside the door, to keep you safe.”Viktor nodded absently.

Minami got to his feet again.“I’ll be around,” he said softly.“If there’s anything you need from me.”

Viktor nodded again, not looking away from the TV until Minami left.

As soon as the door to his room closed, Viktor’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a sob.It took a lot of effort to open his eyes again, and automatically he focused on the TV screen, on the pair skaters whirling around each other in perfect harmony.

He wondered what it would be like to do that, to skate with someone, to know someone well enough to be able to predict their every movement.He wondered what it would be like to skate that way with _Yuuri_.

Viktor reached over and hit the mute button on the television remote, shutting off the sound of blades scraping on the ice.He considered for a moment turning the TV off entirely, but decided against it.Viktor pressed one hand to his lips, letting out a shuddery breath.

Unless he was dead already, Markov would kill Yuuri at the end of the mens’ free skate.

And if Viktor kept watching the competition, he would know almost exactly when Yuuri died.

But he wasn’t able to look away as the minutes slid away like quicksilver and somewhere, Yuuri’s life grew shorter and shorter.

***

Yuuri woke up with his cheek pressed to the dirty rubber mat on the floor of the back seat of a moving car, handcuffed again.

He must have made a sound, perhaps a groan, because from out of sight Markov’s horribly familiar voice said in Russian, “You’re awake, aren’t you _Agent Katsuki?”_

Yuuri gritted his teeth and stayed silent.

“I know that somehow, this is all your fault,” Markov said, the hiss of his voice barely audible over the car’s engine.“Feltsman left with Nikiforov.He fucking _betrayed_ me, he _killed_ my employee!I hope you’re happy, Katsuki, knowing that more people will die because you couldn’t let your little boyfriend get killed right away.”

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shut out Markov’s ugly, sibilant whispers as he said, “I hope you realize that after I kill you, I’m going to hunt Nikiforov to the ends of the earth.I will not _stop_ until I kill him. That’s a promise.”

“I won’t let you hurt him,” Yuuri snapped before he could silence himself, and then winced.Incensing Markov was the _last_ thing he wanted to do.

“I’ll find Viktor Nikiforov easily,” Markov said, and Yuuri could hear the cruel smile in his voice.“Don’t you worry about that.All of the police in the world couldn’t protect him from me.Maybe I’ll even give him something to remember you by in the moments before his death.Do lovers still trade locks of hair?”

Yuuri glared silently at the floor in front of his eyes, biting his lip hard enough to taste blood in his mouth.Markov shifted in his seat, and somehow managed to hit Yuuri’s shoulder with something.

“Too soon, perhaps?” He mocked.“Don’t worry, Agent Katsuki, it won’t be that way for too much longer.After all, you don’t have much longer to live.And you can’t worry about how much pain Viktor Nikiforov is going to be in when you’re dead.”

He took a long, deep breath.“We’re going to watch the World Champion Men’s’ Free Skate together,” Markov murmured.“We’re going to watch the free skate.And then after it is over and the proper winner has been chosen, I will shoot you once for as many rubles as I have won.”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped open.

“Millions of bullets should be enough to kill you, don’t you think?” Markov said thoughtfully, and then added mockingly, “Even if only one was sufficient for your Interpol friend.”

The muscles in Yuuri’s jaw clenched, but still he refused to speak again.

“It won’t matter to you after a dozen, anyway,” Markov said in an almost genial voice.“What matters is that in a couple of hours, you will be dead.”

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asked.

“Fucking _Yakov_ betrayed me,” Markov said again, furious.“Like the rat he is, I am sure he will tell the police where we were keeping you and Nikiforov.So it was not safe for us to stay there, not if I want to stay out of prison.”He hummed thoughtfully, and then added, “I considered killing you then and leaving your body for the police to find, but… it will be so much more satisfying to kill you when you are awake.”

Yuuri tried to swallow, his mouth dry, his heart beating a tattoo against his rib cage.He tried to reason with himself, to remind himself that he had resigned himself to death already, but the sick, panicky feeling in his chest didn’t want to listen.

They drove for what was probably hours but felt like years before the car was finally pulled over by the side of the road.Yuuri tried to shift himself as much as possible, straining to get a look out the car windows, but all he could see were trees.The car door opened and Markov said something in a low voice to his last remaining thug before getting out and slamming the door behind himself.A moment later the door by Yuuri’s feet opened and he was forcefully dragged out of the back of the car, his chin hitting the ground painfully.

“Get up,” Markov said, and then kicked him in the ribs.Yuuri gasped with pain, curling in on himself, and then struggled to his feet before Markov could kick him again, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Walk,” Markov said, gesturing into the woods that stretched before them, and then leveled a gun at Yuuri’s head.“I don’t want to get blood spatter on my car.”

Yuuri bowed his head and did as he was told, walking away from the car and the road and into the forest.It was getting later, the sun dimmer, as they walked farther away from civilization, and Yuuri tried not to shiver in the rapidly cooling air. After five or so minutes they happened upon a small clearing.

“Stop, here is good,” Markov ordered, and Yuuri had no choice but to stop where he was.Markov walked around him and faced him, the gun still aimed in his general direction, and dug in his pocket for a moment before pulling out his phone.He fiddled with it for a moment before tossing it to Yuuri, who just barely managed to catch it with his handcuffed wrists.When he righted the device he looked down at the screen.

A stream of the World Championships was playing, the mens’ free skate already in progress.It must have been later than Yuuri realized.

“Now we watch,” Markov said from a few steps away, gun never wavering.

Yuuri looked back down, trying as best he could to pay attention to both Markov and the stream at the same time.Several skaters Yuuri was too fuzzy to recognize skated before a familiar name emanated from the tinny cell phone speakers, and Yuuri started.

On the small screen Phichit Chulanont skated out to the center of the ice, and even in such poor definition Yuuri could tell by the way his friend moved that Phichit was a mess.Sure enough, the Thai man fell on several of his jumps, distracted and jerky, and by the time his routine was over his head was bowed and his arms were limp and tired.

Yuuri’s heart panged in sympathy as Phichit left the ice.He hoped his friend wouldn’t be too sad when he died.

More skaters that Yuuri recognized skated in quick succession after that- JJ, Emil, Chris, Michele, Otabek- and with each skater that performed Yuuri felt his death tick nearer.And, as each skater performed, Markov got antsier, his finger curling and uncurling around the trigger of his gun.

Seung-gil skated a beautiful routine, and Yuuri knew, somehow, that the Korean man would win.Sure enough, although a couple skaters went after him, none surpassed his combined short program and free skate scores.

As the final scoreboard flashed on the tiny screen of the phone, Seung-gil’s name at the top and Viktor’s nowhere to be seen, Markov began to laugh as he plucked the phone out of Yuuri’s hands.

“I won!” he said manically, pacing away from Yuuri and slipping the phone in his pocket, where it clinked against what sounded like keys.“I won the bet!I _won_ because Viktor Nikiforov _didn’t!”_

Yuuri edged backwards slightly, weighing his odds of escape while Markov’s back was turned.And then Markov whirled around, pointing the gun at Yuuri’s head.“And now it’s time to pay you what you are owed,” he said with an unhinged grin.

Yuuri stared down the barrel of Markov’s gun as the man curled his finger around the trigger, an ugly sneer on his face.

“I am what death looks like,” Markov gloated, and then fired.

Just before Markov pulled the trigger, Yuuri ducked and ran forward, his handcuffed arms awkwardly in front of him. The fired bullet whizzed over Yuuri’s left shoulder, uncomfortably close to his ear, just a moment before he collided with Markov, ramming his shoulder into the other man’s stomach.

Markov bellowed, enraged, and struck out at Yuuri with the gun, hitting him in the face.Yuuri gasped, flinching as pain bloomed on his cheekbone, but pressed forwards, fingers scratching at Markov, using the force of his momentum to knock Markov over.The gun thudded to the ground as Markov fell over and Yuuri overbalanced, slamming down on top of him.

Markov smacked at Yuuri, his fist managing to catch Yuuri’s jaw, and Yuuri managed to slam his knee into Markov’s gut.They but scrabbled for the gun at the same time but despite his handcuffs Yuuri got there first, managing to roll to his feet with the weapon clutched in both hands.

“Stay where you are!” he yelled as Markov also staggered to his feet.Yuuri curled his finger around the trigger aiming it at Markov.“Stay where you are!” he yelled again, his body trembling with adrenaline.

His face twisted, snarling, more like a wild animal than a man, Markov fumbled in his pocket before pulling out a switchblade before rushing at Yuuri.

Yuuri didn’t hesitate.

The gun fired once, twice, and then Markov was stumbling, falling at Yuuri’s feet, the knife falling from his limp fingers as blood began to pool beneath him.Yuuri nearly tripped over himself to get away, keeping the gun aimed at Markov even as the man’s breathing stopped.

Markov’s man suddenly ran out from the tree line, shouting something in panicked, incomprehensible Russian. “Don’t move!” Yuuri barked, turning the gun on him.“If you have any weapons, take them out or I’ll shoot you!”

The man eyed Yuuri nervously and then slowly pulled a knife out of his pocket before kicking it away from himself. 

Yuuri took a deep breath, his hands steady, and strengthened his resolve.He _had_ to stay calm, he _had_ to, he _had_ to.“Get against that tree,” he said coldly, his grip on the gun in his hands never wavering.“Sit facing me, with your hands in view.If I can’t see your hands, I will shoot you.”

Markov’s man glared at him for a long moment, and then sullenly did as Yuuri instructed.Yuuri glared back at him for another long moment, and then without taking his eyes off his hostage stepped over Markov’s body before crouching next to him. He kept the gun trained on Markov’s man the entire time.

Yuuri gritted his teeth, steeling himself, and then fished in Markov’s pockets until he found his cell phone and some keys that would hopefully unlock his handcuffs.He grimaced when his fingers came away stained red, and wiped them on his shirt before getting to his feet again, his eyes on Markov’s man and the phone clutched in one hand.

“I’m going to make a call,” he said in a flat voice, moving back to his spot against a tree across the small clearing.It felt safer, at least, to have his back to something solid.“If you so much as move I will blow your finger off.Understood?”

The man nodded.

Without looking away, Yuuri fumbled through unlocking his handcuffs, letting them fall to the ground, and then pulled up the emergency dial pad on Markov’s cell phone.He dialed Minami’s phone number from memory before lifting the device to his ear.The phone rang once, twice, the signal shaky and staticky, before it was picked up.

“Who is this?” Minami saidin English, his voice guarded.He clearly remembered Markov’s number from the last time Yuuri had been forced to call.

“This is Agent Katsuki Yuuri,” Yuuri said in Japanese, his eyes and the gun focused on his prisoner.“I’m no longer being held hostage.”

“You’re not?” Minami said, also replying in Japanese.“Your mom would probably ban you from having katsudon if she found out you were lying.”

“Good thing I’m not,” Yuuri said, fighting back a smile.

Minami’s enormous sigh of relief whistled audibly over the phone.“I’m so glad you’re alright,” he said.“What _happened_?”

Yuuri let a long breath out through his nose.“I… I can go into the details later,” he said slowly.“But Markov is dead.”

“Dead?” Minami repeated softly, and Yuuri pressed his lips together.

“Yes,” he confirmed.“Markov and one of his other men are both dead.The third is here with me, I have him at gunpoint.”

“Do you know where you are?” Minami asked.

Yuuri frowned.“I don’t,” he admitted.“I was hoping you would be able to trace the call.”

“Yeah, let me just-”There was a shuffling sound, and then Minami said something in muffled, incomprehensible English to someone else on his side before he returned.“It will take a couple of minutes, can you stay on the line?” he asked.

Yuuri smiled tiredly.“Yes, of course,” he said lightly.“I’m in no particular rush.”

“We’ll get you safe and out of there as soon as possible,” Minami promised.

“Thanks,” Yuuri whispered.

Minami seemed to hesitate, and then said, “Would you like to talk to Viktor?”

Yuuri’s heart leapt into his throat.“He’s there?” he said hopefully.“He’s safe?”

“Yep,” Minami said.“Wait just a moment, I’ll go find him.I left him watching Worlds.”

Yuuri’s smile became far more genuine.“I’d love to talk to him, if he’ll listen,” he whispered.

“He will,” Minami said quickly.The ambient noise in the background of the call changed, as if he was walking.Minami hesitated again, and then said in a lower voice, “He’s been very worried about you.”

Yuuri exhaled, shuddery.“I’ve been worried about him too,” he admitted softly.

“One second,” Minami said with a smile in his voice, and then put his hand over the phone and said something that sounded like “It’s for you.”

After a moment of crackling, scuffling noises, a very familiar voice said into the phone, “Hello, who is this?”

Yuuri swallowed hard, and then said, his voice cracking, “Hey, Viktor, it’s Yuuri.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor said quietly, and Yuuri almost burst into tears right then and there.“Yuuri,” Viktor repeated in a whisper, reverential.“Oh my god, you’re safe!”

Yuuri closed his eyes for a split second before opening them again, remembering where he was, and who he was with.“Yuuri?” Viktor said again, and Yuuri realized he had been quiet for too long.

“Hey, I’m still here,” he said quietly, switching to French so that his hostage wouldn’t be able to understand him.Viktor hummed in mild confusion, but didn’t question him.

“So I guess you got to safety?” Yuuri asked after a long moment.

“I did,” Viktor replied.“Thanks to you.”

Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief.“And… you’re not, um, you’re not too hurt, are you?” he floundered.

“I have a concussion,” Viktor said a bit awkwardly.“And my wrists aren’t great because of the handcuffs, but other than that… I’m alright.”His voice grew softer, gentler.“Are… are you alright?”

Yuuri absently poked at his split lip with his tongue, focused for a moment on the smarting bruises just beginning to form on his face and arms, the sting of abrasions on his wrists.“I’m OK,” he promised.“I’ll be OK, at least.”

“I’m glad,” Viktor said, stilted.

Neither spoke for a moment, and Yuuri listened to Viktor breathe, quiet and a bit quick.“…Are you mad at me?” Viktor asked just as the silence got just a bit uncomfortable.

Yuuri’s eyes widened.“Mad at you?” he repeated.“No, of course not.Why would I be?”

Viktor made a huffing noise into the receiver.“I don’t know,” he mumbled.“You almost died because of me.”

“I lied to you for _months_ ,” Yuuri replied.

Viktor made a soft noise.“I guess we don’t need to have a pissing contest over who got off worse,” he said after a second, and Yuuri barked out a surprised laugh.

“I guess we don’t,” he agreed.

“I… I’m really glad you’re OK,” Viktor said a little awkwardly and Yuuri blinked hard, not too shocked to find his eyes watering.

“I’m glad you’re OK too, Vitya,” he replied.

“Hold on,” Viktor said suddenly, and then Minami’s voice blurted, “Hey, Yuuri, sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri said, just slightly disappointed.

“They’ve traced the call, the police are already on their way to where you are,” Minami said.“They want the phone to stay on the line with you the whole time.”

“That’s fine,” Yuuri replied, slipping from Yuuri-Viktor’s-Lover to Agent Katsuki Yuuri easily.“I’ve got the situation here under control.”

“Awesome,” Minami said absently.“Listen, I’ll see you in a bit, we’re coming just behind the police.”

“Who’s _we?”_ Yuuri asked, but before he could get an answer a strange voice said into the phone, “Please stay on the line, Agent Katsuki.”

“Affirmative,” Yuuri said, and then the phone went silent.

Yuuri sighed and placed it in the ground next to his feet before raising his eyes to his hostage.Luckily the man hadn’t moved much, still seated against the tree with his hands in plain view.Apparently he was more afraid of the gun in Yuuri’s hands than Yuuri had thought he would be.

“Now, we wait,” he said in Russian to his hostage.The man glared sullenly back at Yuuri, his jaw set.

The gun still gripped tightly in his slightly sweaty fingers, Yuuri settled himself on the ground to wait.He slowly fell into an almost trancelike state, rarely blinking, his hands steady,watching every twitch that his hostage made as he waited for the police to come.

After an interminable amount of time Yuuri’s ears caught the faint sound of sirens on the wind, sirens that quickly grew louder.They stopped after a little while, but not more than a minute later Yuuri could hear shouting, almost hear footsteps.He pushed himself to his feet again, standing and facing the direction that the sounds were coming from, gun still trained on Markov’s man.

A moment later the first police officers appeared from the woods, rushing into the clearing.“Drop the gun!” one of them shouted and Yuuri did as he was told, mildly raising his hands.As soon as the gun was out of Yuuri’s grip Markov’s man was up and off like a shot, several police officers sprinting after him.

“I’m Agent Katsuki Yuuri,” Yuuri said in a calm, level voice.“I don’t have my ID with me to prove it, though.”

“Don’t worry, Agent Katsuki, we were informed as to what you look like,” one of the officers said.“You’re safe now.”

Yuuri nodded sharply and then sat down abruptly, shivering, his hands shaking.

_Safe._

Something he hadn’t been in what felt like _forever_.

More people entered the clearing, crowding it.Out of the corner of his eye Yuuri saw the police lead Markov’s man away in handcuffs, and then there was a paramedic kneeling in front of him as another checked Markov’s pulse.Someone offered Yuuri a hand and he took it, pulling himself to his feet.

A paramedic asked him a question about something or other, handing him a blanket, and Yuuri was wracking his mind for the answer when an achingly familiar voice rang out from across the clearing.

“Yuuri!”

***

Viktor couldn’t concentrate for longer than a second during the entire car ride to where Yuuri had been tracked too, his mind racing, every nerve afire.

 _His Yuuri was safe, his Yuuri was safe, his Yuuri was going to be OK_.

After everything they had been through, everything they had survived against the odds, _they were going to be OK_.

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” Minami said, giving Viktor a slightly nervous smile as they pulled off the highway. “Not much more than a couple minutes.”

Viktor nodded vaguely, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, practically straining forward in his seat.Trees whizzed past them on either side as Minami drove at a speed probably much faster than the limit, and Viktor clutched at his seatbelt as with every moment they got closer to Yuuri, closer to his love.

Minami pulled over on the side of the road after what seemed like a year and a day, shutting off the engine, but he didn’t unlock the car doors.Viktor checked.

“Viktor, listen,” Minami said seriously.“I know you want to see Yuuri, but you need to stay back and let the police do their jobs, OK?They should have secured the scene by now, but since you and I haven’t been in contact with Yuuri since he called before we don’t know if he managed to keep everything under control until the authorities arrived.”

“What are you trying to say?” Viktor whispered.

Minami gave him a hard look.“I’m saying that if there’s violence or danger, maybe a shootout or anything of the sort, you need to run and hide and not come back.Understand?”

Viktor opened his mouth to protest, but Minami shook his head firmly.“Yuuri wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” he said.“I don’t want to use that card, because I know your’s and Yuuri’s relationship is so much more than a pawn to be used, but I also know that Yuuri would be absolutely devastated if anything happened to you.”

Viktor hesitated, and then nodded slowly.“I promise,” he said, hating himself.

Minami offered him a small smile.“I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, though,” he said.“Yuuri is incredibly competent at what he does.”

Viktor nodded.“I know,” he replied with a tiny, slightly sarcastic smile.

Minami nodded resolutely, and the car doors unlocked with a click.“Let’s go,” he said.“Please stay behind me.”

They both got out of the car and then Viktor followed Minami as he walked down a faint path through the woods.Viktor had just spotted what looked like a clearing through the trees when he heard talking up ahead.

“Viktor!” Minami shouted angrily as Viktor raced past him, but was too slow to catch Viktor’s arm.

Viktor skidded to a halt at the edge of a small clearing bustling with people, most of them in police uniforms, a couple looking like paramedics.His eyes widened, desperately, searching, until he saw a familiar man wrapped in a blanket, talking to a paramedic.“Yuuri!” he shouted, and the man turned his eyes wide.

“Viktor!” Yuuri said, almost too quietly to be heard, and Viktor was across the clearing before he could blink, flinging his arms around Yuuri.

“Hey!” the paramedic said, sounding indignant, but Yuuri waved him off before awkwardly embracing Viktor back.

“Oh my god,” Viktor said, and then stifled a sob, squeezing Yuuri tight.

“Hey,” Yuuri laughed, hugging him back just as tightly, and Viktor had never felt as at home as he did in that moment, safe in Yuuri’s arms.

“You’re safe, oh my god, you’re safe.” Viktor babbled.

“I’m safe,” Yuuri repeated, sounding just a bit surprised.He squeezed Viktor a bit more, resting his chin on his shoulder.“Vitya, thank god _you’re_ safe.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Viktor laughed, only a little hysterical.He pulled back a little, looking into Yuuri’s face- and for the first time he noticed the blood on Yuuri’s chin from a split lip, the bruise beginning to bloom on his cheekbone.“Oh my god, what happened?” he gasped.

Yuuri smiled.“Just a little fight,” he said, and then joked weakly, “You should have seen the other guy.”

Viktor lifted one hand and gently caressed Yuuri’s face before leaning in and kissing him.“Viten’ka,” Yuuri sighed into his mouth, kissing him back eagerly.

“Yuuri, my love,” Viktor whispered against Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri gently ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair before his hand came to rest gently cupping the back of Viktor’s neck.He broke the kiss for a moment, leaning his forehead against Viktor’s.“Stay with me,” he breathed.

Viktor inhaled sharply.“That almost sounds like a marriage proposal,” he replied.

Yuuri’s eyes were wet as he said, “It can be, if you want.I-”He broke off, swallowed hard, and then said, “I know I lied to you, and I would never blame you for being absolutely furious with me for that.But please- please give me the chance to make it up to you, to earn back your trust and your… love.”

“You already have my love,” Viktor said, his voice wobbling a little.“I… I’m still a little angry, but-”He traced one gentle finger acrossYuuri’s cheek, down the line of his jaw.“But I don’t know what I would have done if you’d-if you’d-”

He choked on a sob, and Yuuri hugged him close again.Viktor shuddered, burying his face in Yuuri’s shoulder before he finally began to cry.

“It’s OK, Vitya,” Yuuri whispered, stroking Viktor’s hair and holding him as he sobbed.He sniffled a little as they clung tightly to each other, hearts beating as one.

“It’s OK,” Yuuri repeated softly.“We’re going to be OK.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes about violence: Some discussion of injuries in the first section. In the second section a (major) character is threatened with bodily harm and death, sometimes graphically. He is restrained and injured while held hostage. A major character and a minor character get in a physical fight- the major character gets slightly injured, the minor character is shot and killed. A third (minor) character is held at gunpoint. In the third section there is a brief discussion about the possibility of violence and death that does not come to pass.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for your patience with this chapter :D
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed! I'm planning to have the last chapter up on or around October 24th. Until then, thanks so much for reading, feel free to comment/ask questions or talk to me [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/), and have a beautiful day, dear reader!


	26. Epilogue (You Are My World)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone gets the ending they deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but i hope it's satisfying nonetheless <3
> 
> Warning for some minor violence in the first section.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

_Five Years Later_

 

“I’m going in, alright?” Yuuri said into his earpiece.

“Good luck,” came the reply a moment later from the man who had been Yuuri’s partner in investigation for the past month.

Yuuri nodded to the police officers who waited behind him, and then said in a low voice, “We want to get this done with as little violence as possible, understood?”They all nodded.

Yuuri took a deep breath, pulled out his own gun, and then rammed his shoulder into the front door of the dingy warehouse they were gathered outside of.

“This is the police!” he yelled in French as the officers behind him flooded into the building.He heard some scuffling and shouting upstairs, and gestured for the police to follow him.

Heart in his throat, hands steady, Yuuri crept up a flight of narrow stairs before turning a corner to find himself facing a closed door with light glimmering from the crack underneath.Yuuri nodded resolutely, and then burst into the room with his gun raised.“Hands in the air!” he ordered, eyes darting to each of the people in the room, taking stock of the situation.

Three people had jumped up from where they had been sitting at a table, while two more stood by the windows.Yuuri smiled slightly as he focused on one of the people by the window, matching the man’s face with the wanted posters he had seen when he had first been assigned the case.

The police entered the room after Yuuri, and cautiously edged towards the frozen criminals.Surprised as they had been, none of them had drawn weapons, and the police quickly set about arresting them as Yuuri calmly rattled off charges- international smuggling, drug trading, bribery, murder.

When the situation seemed to be under control he turned to the side and said into his earpiece, “The scene is secure.”

“Excellent,” came the reply.

“Katsuki!” one of the police officers shouted, and Yuuri whirled around to see one of the criminals leaping at him with a knife in hand from behind the door they had entered.

Yuuri gasped, and instinctively put up both hands.The blade of the knife grazed his palm and then Yuuri had his fingers wrapped around the other man’s wrist, twisting sharply.The man cried out in pain and Yuuri shoved him back, against the wall, as the knife hit the floor with a clatter.He held the scowling man until two police officers rushed over to handcuff him, and then stepped back and breathed a quiet sigh. 

“Yuuri?”said the voice in his ear, and Yuuri cleared his throat before answering.

“Sorry,” he said.“ _Now_ the scene is secure.”

“Glad to hear it,” the other man said with poorly hidden concern in his voice.Yuuri nodded, even though he knew the other officer couldn’t see him, and then turned his attention back to the police.

Yuuri supervised as the leaders of the drug smuggling ring they had been trying to crack for months were led outside, and then followed.More authorities were lingering outdoors, some keeping away a small crowd of interested Parisians.Yuuri’s investigation partner met him at the door.

“Katsuki, everything alright?” he said immediately, and Yuuri smiled, nodding.

“Yes, of course,” he promised.“I’m just fine.”

Yuuri’s investigation partner, shook his hand.“Thank you so much for your help with this, Agent Katsuki,” he said earnestly.“This would have been much harder, perhaps even impossible, without your assistance.”

Yuuri smiled just a little tiredly.“Of course, it was no trouble,” he said.

“And please pass on my regards to Minako Okukawa as well,” the man requested, and Yuuri nodded.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear from you.”

“Would you like a ride to anywhere?” the man asked, and Yuuri gratefully accepted a lift back to the hotel he had been staying at.

It was about three hours before Yuuri was finally sitting down in his hastily-bought seat on a plane home after quickly packing up the belongings he had brought.

Yuuri leaned back in his seat and sighed, covering his eyes and pushing away his worries for the time being.After spending a month in Paris, albeit in a reasonably nice hotel, he was _very_ ready to go home.

Yuuri fumbled to buckle his seatbelt as the plane began to roll towards the runway and an announcement came over the speakers in French, going over the plane’s safety procedures.Yuuri tuned all of that out, gazing blankly out the window by his left shoulder.Absently, moved more by habit than anything else, his fingers dipped beneath the collar of his shirt and he pulled out two gold rings on a chain around his neck.

Yuuri bit his lip as he rubbed his thumb over the rings, the gold warm after laying against his skin.His ring finger itched, as it often did when he hadn’t worn his rings for a while, but Yuuri ignored it. _Now_ was not the time to be wearing an engagement and a wedding ring.

Yuuri pulled out headphones and turned on his music, closing his eyes and leaning his head back as the plane took off.He didn’t look back as Paris disappeared behind him.

Yuuri dozed off at some point during the flight, and woke up to silent headphones still stuck in his ears and the low _bing_ of the seatbelt symbol lighting back up as the plane prepared to landing.The rings around Yuuri’s neck still dangled loosely from the chain between Yuuri’s fingers, and he clutched them tightly in his palm even as he pressed his face to the window, smiling slightly down at the lights of his home below. It was dark out, but that was no surprise- he had left Paris in the early evening, and between the time of the flight and the time difference most of the city was bound to be asleep.

Yuuri began to gather his belongings even as the plane descended, and was one of the first ones off.It took him a bit longer than he wanted to gather his luggage, but before too long Yuuri was in a cab, trying not to fall asleep as he was driven back to his apartment.

Yuuri was on autopilot as he paid the cab driver and then gathered his luggage, carrying it all with some difficulty into the lobby of his building.He nodded vaguely to the night doorman, who smiled at him in recognition, and then took the elevator up to the fifth floor.

It took Yuuri a minute or two to find his keys in his jacket pocket, and when he opened the apartment door it was, unsurprisingly, rather dark inside.Yuuri heaved his luggage in and left it in a neat line by the door, to deal with the next day.He turned on the dim light above the entrance and had just bent over to take off his shoes when he heard the click of a dog’s nails against the hardwood floor just before a poodle padded into the entranceway.

Yuuri looked up and smiled affectionately.“Hey, Makka,” he said in a soft voice, offering a hand, and Makkachin sniffed at it before practically knocking Yuuri over, licking at his face.Yuuri laughed, hugging the poodle.“Hey, I missed you too,” he said, kissing Makkachin on the top of her fuzzy head.“Have you been a good girl for Vitya?”

Makkachin whuffed in reply, licking Yuuri’s cheek once more before suddenly wriggling out of his arms and bounding away, back into the dark apartment.“Makka, no!” Yuuri whispered, as loud as he dared.“Please let Viktor sleep!”

Makkachin came trotting back, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, and waited patiently by Yuuri’s side as he took off his shoes and hung up his coat on a hook by the door.When he was done she pawed at his leg, and then padded towards the living room, glancing once over her shoulder to see if Yuuri was following.

“Oh, Vitya,” Yuuri sighed with a small, tired smile, and followed their dog.As he had suspected, there was a small lamp still on by the couch, where Viktor lay asleep.There was a book lying open on his chest, the pages slightly bent around Viktor’s fingers even as he slumbered.

Yuuri smiled fondly as Makkachin jumped up on the couch and curled up on top of Viktor’s feet.He reached down and gently pried the book from Viktor’s fingers, closing it and setting it on the table beside the lamp.There was a half empty mug on the floor next to the couch, and Yuuri picked it up and sniffed at the dregs of coffee before setting the mug down on the table as well.He would wash it in the morning.

“Yuuri?” a soft voice said, and Yuuri glanced down to see Viktor looking up at him with tired, half-open eyes.

Yuuri smiled.“Hey,” he said quietly, kneeling by the couch so that he and his husband were face to face.“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Mm, I wasn’t asleep,” Viktor said, rubbing at his eyes and yawning.

Yuuri chuckled.“Sure.”

Viktor grinned sheepishly, sitting up with a groan.Makkachin gave him a look when she was dislodged, and then resettled herself.

"Did you get them?" Viktor asked through another yawn.  "Did you catch the criminals?"

Yuuri smiled.  "Yes, everything this afternoon went off without a hitch," he said.

Viktor grinned.  "That's great," he said quietly.

Yuuri shifted to sit on the couch next to his husband, and Viktor took his hand.“I missed you,” he said softly.“I was trying to stay up to welcome you back home.”

Yuuri leaned his head against Viktor’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the back of Viktor’s hand.“It’s alright, I know I got in pretty late.You don’t have to wait up for me every time, I promise.”

“I know that,” Viktor said quietly.“But I… I worry about you.”

Yuuri’s heart melted and he looked up into his husband’s face before leaning in and gently kissing him.“I know you do,” he whispered.“I love you, Viten’ka.”

“I love you too, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured in reply, gently running the fingers of his free hand through Yuuri’s hair.  Suddenly, he turned Yuuri's hand palm up.  "Yuuri, sweetheart, you're hurt," he said with a small, worried frown, breaking the kiss.  

Yuuri glanced down at the graze on his palm, from when he had been attacked earlier.  "It's alright, it's not too bad," he murmured.  

Viktor got up, and then with a small smile swept Yuuri up in a bridal carry.  Yuuri laughed, slinging his arms around his husband's neck.  

"As the certified husband of one Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov, I think we need to get this fixed up," Viktor said.  "Obviously you are far too injured to walk right now."  

Yuuri chuckled.  "You're so strong," he murmured into Viktor's chest.  

"I went to the gym this morning," Viktor replied proudly, carrying Yuuri into the bathroom before setting him down on the closed lid of the toilet.  

Yuuri watched with a small smile on his lips as Viktor bustled around, getting out band-aids and cotton balls and rubbing alcohol.  It was a small injury, barely a scratch, but Yuuri knew that Viktor caring for him helped both of them with the stress of the constant danger Yuuri's job put him in.  

Viktor knelt in front of him and carefully pressed a cotton ball wet with rubbing alcohol to the scrape, cleaning it gently before covering it with a bright blue band-aid.  

" Thanks," Yuuri said with a smile, and leaned down to kiss Viktor.  

"Of course," Viktor said very quietly when the parted.  He paused a moment, staring down at the bandage on Yuuri's palm, and then stood up abruptly and put the medical supplies away.  Yuuri stood as well, and slid one arm around Viktor's waist, leaning against his side.  

"Thank you for taking care of me, Vitya," he murmured, and Viktor paused before hugging him back.  

"I am always more than happy to take care of you, my Yuuri," he whispered.  

They returned to the couch and snuggled together under a blanket, Makkachin resting her head on Yuuri's knee.  Viktor kissed Yuuri's forehead, smoothed his hair back, and then asked,  “Do you have your rings?”

Yuuri smiled, pulling the chain around his neck out from underneath the collar of his shirt.“Of course I do, my love.”

Viktor gently lifted the rings out of Yuuri’s palm and kissed the warm gold before unclasping the chain from around Yuuri’s neck.With quiet reverence he took Yuuri’s hand and slid both rings onto his finger.“Will you marry me?” he said, lips curled teasingly.

“Again?” Yuuri teased back.

“A third honeymoon sounds nice,” Viktor said.“We could go to… hm, maybe Barcelona this time?”

“Sure,” Yuuri said.He cupped Viktor’s face with one palm, and Viktor leaned into his touch.

“Do you have your rings?” Yuuri whispered, and Viktor nodded as he pulled an identical chain as Yuuri’s from around his neck.

“You know, you don’t always have to take yours off while I’m away,” Yuuri murmured as he slid the rings onto Viktor’s finger, cupping his hand like it was the most precious thing in his world.

When he looked up Viktor was gazing at him with wide, soft blue eyes.“I know you don’t wear your wedding ring to protect me,” he said quietly.“So that anyone who might want to hurt you wouldn’t know to do it through me.But I… I don’t want you to be the only one to suffer.”

Yuuri smiled a little sadly.Viktor _knew_ how hard it was to take off his wedding ring every time Interpol sent him out of Russia.He _understood._

But Yuuri wouldn’t have to do it for too much longer.

“Besides,” Viktor added, his expression brightening a little.“It gives me the chance to propose to you again several times a year.”

Yuuri had to smile at that.“I suppose that’s true,” he replied, and then leaned in and kissed Viktor again, slow and sweet.

When they parted, Viktor said in a low, faltering voice, “I really missed you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s lip trembled.“I missed you too,” he replied, his voice cracking.

“I was so scared,” Viktor admitted in a tiny voice, resting his forehead against Yuuri’s shoulder and turning his face into the skin of Yuuri’s neck.“So scared that one night I’d wake up to the phone ringing and then someone would tell me that you’d- that you’d-”

“I know,” Yuuri whispered, pulling Viktor into a hug.“I know.I can’t imagine-”He broke off, and Viktor hugged him tightly.

“I was scared that something would happen to you, that- that because this was your last one, because this was the last time you’d be in that kind of danger, fate would get in our way again-” Viktor babbled.

“I promise I’m alright,” Yuuri said, rubbing one hand up and down Viktor’s back.“My application went through about a week after I left for Paris, I told you that.And now I’m safe and I’m back, and I’ll be working a desk job for Interpol half an hour away.We’re OK, Vitya.”

“I know, I know, I-”Viktor exhaled, shuddery.“I feel bad, for taking you away from the world,” he admitted in a whisper.“I don’t want you to get hurt- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you- but I feel bad taking you away from the world, where you could do so much more good-”

“Viktor,” Yuuri interrupted, pulling away a little and cupping Viktor’s face in both hands, making eye contact with his husband.Viktor’s eyes were a little wet, his lips slightly open, a flush high on his cheeks as he struggled not to cry. “Vitya,” Yuuri repeated in a softer voice.“You’re not taking me away from the world.You _are_ my world.”

Viktor’s breath hitched and he pulled Yuuri into a messy kiss.Yuuri exhaled, pressing closer, and slid his palms under Viktor’s shirt to rest on his smooth, muscular back.“Bed?” Viktor panted against Yuuri’s lips, and Yuuri nodded.

They didn’t bother to turn off the lamp by the couch before they left the room together.

***

When Viktor had finished welcoming his husband home after his month long Interpol mission to Paris, and they had both cleaned up, Yuuri and Viktor returned to bed.Despite the late hour Viktor was more awake than he had been before, heart thumping loudly in his chest as Yuuri settled in his arms, a warm and familiar presence.

“I missed you so much,” Viktor said for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Yuuri smiled fondly, his fingers brushing over Viktor’s jaw.“I missed you too,” he replied in a soft voice.

Viktor swallowed hard.He and Yuuri had talked during Yuuri’s trip, of course, but hearing Yuuri’s voice over the phone was nothing compared to holding his husband in his arms, feeling the warmth of Yuuri’s breath against his cheek as he spoke.

“You know, I wasn’t kidding about Barcelona,” Viktor said with a tentative smile, and his heart seemed to skip a beat when Yuuri smiled back, bright and happy.

“I know you weren’t,” Yuuri murmured.“I know you _never_ joke about honeymoons.”

“It’s a very serious topic,” Viktor agreed with a solemn nod, and then broke when Yuuri laughed.

“Is it your turn to propose again, or mine?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor gently tapped him on the nose with the tip of his finger.“Love has no turns, darling.Be spontaneous!”

“Spontaneous,” Yuuri repeated.“Alright, Vitya, let’s get married.Again.Will you marry me?”

“Oh, Yuuri, how romantic,” Viktor giggled.They fell silent for a little while, drinking in each other’s presence after so many nights apart.

“How was your week?” Yuuri finally asked.“We haven’t really talked since last week, when you were so busy getting ready for Worlds and I was busy preparing for the bust.”

Viktor could have cried from the normalcy of it all.He still could hardly believe that Yuuri, _his_ Yuuri, was his husband.That Yuuri would come home to him every day and would lie in bed beside him and ask him how his week had been.Viktor could hardly fathom how he had gotten so _lucky_.

“My week was good,” he replied.“I really think Yuri is set to win the Grand Prix Finals next season.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.“How’s his knee after Worlds?”

Viktor sighed, growing serious.“He’s still in recovery, but he’s been going to physical therapy religiously,” he replied.“He’s chomping at the bit to win a gold after this season.”

“I’m sure he’ll get there,” Yuuri replied.“Thanks in part to his talented coach, of course.”

Viktor blushed a little even as Yuuri’s eyes crinkled in a smile.“I don’t know, I-” he mumbled.

“Vitya, you’re doing an amazing job, I’m sure of it,” Yuuri assured him.“Yuri was so close to winning Worlds, if it hadn’t been for his knee during the free skate-”

“I know,” Viktor mumbled, and then raised one eyebrow.“You watched from Paris?”

“Of course,” Yuuri replied.“Your new coat looks great, by the way.”

“Mm, I thought so too,” Viktor said with a sly smile that quickly turned sweet.“I’m glad you watched.”

“Me too,” Yuuri said.“Phichit deserved his gold, especially for his last Worlds.”

“You should call him some time, he was disappointed that you couldn’t be in Stockholm to watch,” Viktor said.

Yuuri nodded.“I’ll give him a call tomorrow.”He sobered, and gently brushed Viktor’s bangs out of his eyes before asking, “I know when we talked last week you said you were going to visit him when you got back from Worlds.Did you…?”

Viktor swallowed hard.“I did,” he murmured.“Georgi and Mila went with me as well.  I extended an offer to Lilia and Yuri as well, but they declined.”

“And?” Yuuri asked, his eyes worriedly searching Viktor’s face.

Viktor exhaled slowly.“He’s still set to get out in two years,” he muttered.“Which is still several years too early, if you ask me.”

Yuuri bit his lip, frowning a little.“Vitya,” he said anxiously.“You know I had to make that deal with him.To get you out.I would have done anything, I-”

“I know,” Viktor said quickly, slinging an arm around Yuuri and pulling him closer.“I know, I know, I just… can’t get over everything he did.”

Yuuri sighed, defeated.“I know,” he replied softly.“Neither can I, not really.I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive him for everything he did that hurt you.But Yakov is serving the time assigned to him by the court, reduced as it is.”

“Maybe he’ll die in prison,” Viktor said savagely, his face twisting, and Yuuri’s frown deepened.

“You don’t mean that,” he said quietly, and Viktor relaxed, sighing deeply.

“I don’t,” he admitted, hating his words.“I don’t.”

Yuuri studied him, and then said, changing the subject, “You said Georgi went with you, how is he doing?”

Viktor smiled a little.“He’s working on applying to law schools right now,” he said.“He said he still wants to become a lawyer, to help people who were falsely accused of their crimes.”

Yuuri smiled.“That’s great,” he said.

“He’s obviously very passionate about it,” Viktor said, looking over Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Vitya?” Yuuri said a little uncertainly, and a touch on Viktor’s cheek brought him back.“What’s the matter?”

Viktor hesitated, and then said, “I… didn’t tell you when we last talked.But.I’ve started looking for people to take over as head coach of the St. Petersburg rink.I don’t want to do it anymore.I… I might still be willing to do choreography sometimes, but I don’t want to coach anymore.”

Yuuri nodded slowly.“Vitya,” he said softly.“You know that I will support whatever makes you happy.What do you want to do once you find a new coach for the other skaters at the St. Petersburg rink?”

“I don’t know,” Viktor mumbled.“Maybe go back to school, get a degree in something…” he trailed off.“I feel like… I don’t know.I love skating, I still do, but because of everything that happened my last season… it’s not the same.I know I’ll always be known to a lot of people as Viktor Nikiforov, five time world champion, but I almost want to put skating behind me.Not completely, but…”

“I understand,” Yuuri said gently.“Vitya, I understand.He kissed Viktor on the cheek, his lips soft.“I understand completely.”

“I have the _best_ husband,” Viktor sighed, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“I think _I_ have the best husband,” Yuuri replied, settling into Viktor’s arms, snuggling close.

Viktor’s heart swelled and he hugged the warm, sweet man in his arms.“I’m so happy,” Viktor whispered almost soundlessly, and Yuuri hummed low in his throat in wordless agreement.

And it was true.Even after everything that had happened, everything that had hurt them and had almost torn them apart, Viktor was safe and happy.His Yuuri was safe and happy.

And they were, truly, going to be OK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~YES I KNOW MAKKA WOULD BE VERY VERY OLD DON'T @ ME~~
> 
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> 
> OK now it's time for the long and sappy thank you, since this is the last chapter of Confidential Information:
> 
> Thank you all _so_ much for everything. This fanfic has been a blast to write, and I am so happy that so many people wanted to enjoy the same story that I did! The experience of writing this wouldn't have been the same without you, so- thank you so much to everyone who commented, gave kudos, subscribed, or just gave this fic a chance. Thanks so much to the people who have been along for the ride from the beginning, to the people who began reading in the middle, and to the people who are reading this after it's been finished. You all mean the world to me, and I'm pretty sure I could never express how grateful I am for all the incredible support I've gotten. So thank you  <3
> 
> I will definitely still be around, and will definitely still be publishing fanfic! I'm currently working on another Big fic that I probably won't start sharing until around the beginning of December, but between now and then I'm hoping to finish and publish some shorter fics I've been keeping on the back burner! As always, I can also be found on tumblr [here](https://iwritebetterthanispeak.tumblr.com/) as well!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed <3 Have an absolutely fantastic day, dear reader!


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